Those Little Moments
by Bubble Wrapped Kitty
Summary: A collection of over one hundred drabbles, each based on a word-of-the-day prompt.
1. Chronological List

AN: If you prefer to read these in chronological order, here's the list. The title is given, along with the posted chapter number beside it. Or if you'd rather just read them in the scattered order they were written, skip onto the next chapter and enjoy!

1. Handsel (87)

2. Abject (80)

3. Mana (48)

4. Distrain (3)

5. Kenspeckle (18)

6. Zetetic (16)

7. Kith (9)

8. Roborant (50)

9. Lupine (4)

10. Bilocation (13)

11. Cosher (57)

12. Degage (15)

13. Anacoluthia (12)

14. Elegaic (107)

15. Mussitate (43)

16. Mantic (88)

17. Diaphonous (34)

18. Galore (5)

19. Gumption (77)

20. Teem (46)

21. Wend (29)

22. Aphorism (67)

23. Futilitarian (72)

24. Nepenthe (52)

25. Lucifugous (41)

26. Détente (85)

27. Chaptalise (98)

28. Echolocation (32)

29. Shenanigan (10)

30. Mundify (103)

31. Patois (73)

32. Amaranthine (99)

33. Schlep (7)

34. Lucubrate (55)

35. Rue (22)

36. Bricolage(51)

37. Billet (102)

38. Dilatory (108)

39. Aporia (70)

40. Deadpan (90)

41. Hobbledehoy (36)

42. Hacienda (94)

43. Burlesque (28)

44. Confiscable (40)

45. Aeon (37)

46. Couchant (8)

47. Efface (39)

48. Jubilee (20)

49. Zugzwang (83)

50. Orison (58)

51. Acta (47)

52. Umbra (56)

53. Deciduous (69)

54. Satori (42)

55. Crotchet (59)

56. Sublimate (74)

57. Assay (76)

58. Torque (81)

59. Foudroyant (1)

60. Apocopate (54)

61. Feign (86)

62. Brindled (60)

63. Nympholepsy (45)

64. Purloin (104)

65. Arch (26)

66. Rigmarole (38)

67. Retrograde (53)

68. Frabjous (35)

69. Abut (61)

70. Tittle (24)

71. Trig (75)

72. Quaggy (27)

73. Subaudition (23)

74. Melismatic (92)

75. Soupcon (2!)

76. Gormandise (2)

77. Aplomb (105)

78. Orthoepy (6)

79. Usufruct (78)

80. Dearth (84)

81. Apodictic (79)

82. Cacchinate (14)

83. Beek (11)

84. Fossick (44)

85. Aesopian (95)

86. Jujitsu (63)

87. Canonical (82)

88. Attenuate (65)

89. Jactation (30)

90. Haw (68)

91. Rubric (17)

92. Aureate (91)

93. Overslaugh (96)

94. Hoary (89)

95. Imago (31)

96. Wassail (49)

97. Willowwacks (100)

98. Bacchanalia (109)

99. Agog (33)

100. Entelechy (93)

101. Gerrymander (19)

102. Sabbatical (64)

103. Ambrosial (25)

104. Nervure (97)

105. Inculcate (106)

106. Postprandial (110)

107. Xenogenic (62)

108. Stonewall (71)

109. Catawampus (66)


	2. Foudroyant

**Foudroyant**: (adj.) Overwhelming and sudden in effect.

* * *

It hit him all at once.

His ears had barely caught the sound of the door handle turning before it opened and he was completely enveloped in sensations. The perfectly measured _click-click_ of his favourite heels against the linoleum; the potent scent of warm coffee and sugar, so strong in the air that he could actually taste it; the soft brush of fabric as she moved about; the short puffs of her breath; an overwhelming wave of grapefruit scented perfume in the air; the slightest nudge of his desk and then the gentle hand on his forearm that sent tingling chills through his every nerve.

"Morning, Annie," he said lightly, twisting in his chair to face her.

"Morning, Auggie," she replied in that voice, that beautiful voice that practically sang of smiles. "Your coffee's at ten o'clock."

His hand inched carefully across the desktop until he found the Styrofoam cup, and he lifted it to his mouth. "You are the light of my world, Annie darling," he said and heard her bright laugh in response.

And beneath his own smile, he wondered if she would ever know just how true that statement was.


	3. Gormandize

**Gormandise**: (v.) To eat greedily or ravenously.

* * *

Auggie was pretty sure that, to his memory, he had never known a girl who could eat like Annie Walker.

"Do you plan on resurfacing for air anytime soon there, dear?" he asked with a smirk. She hadn't spoken a word in the last ten minutes as she inhaled her way through several slices of pizza. His quip earned him what turned out to be a piece of cheesy breadstick to the forehead, and he dissolved into laughter.

"Give me a break," she said indignantly once she'd swallowed. "I've spent the last six days eating nothing but boxed foods." She had only just returned from a stakeout in Orlando that had gone on longer than planned, and he had spent most of the time listening to her mutter complaints about the lack of flavour. So when she had finally been released from being debriefed he had been waiting for her at the tavern with a box of her favourite pizza. She had very nearly strangled him in her gratitude hug.

"I was just concerned for your safety, that's all," he said innocently. "I'm not criticising." She made a noise that seemed torn between sceptical and amused, causing him to grin again.

"Besides," he added, reaching over and plucking a mushroom off one of the remaining slices, "you know, there's nothing sexier than a woman with an appetite."

Even though she laughed, he still received another piece of breadstick to the head for his trouble.


	4. Distrain

**Distrain**: (v.) To seize the property of (a person) in order to compel payment of debts.

* * *

"Auggie, give it back!" Annie protested in annoyance. By what she could only assume was a combination of his ridiculous sensory powers and a bit of luck, he had managed to swipe her pen straight out her hand in the middle of her sentence. Now as he perched himself on the corner of her desk, he smirked and wiggled the pen between his fingers tauntingly. "You are _so_ mature," she drawled sarcastically. She made a snatch at the pen but he raised his arm so that it was out of her reach and laughed. "C'mon, I need to get this file finished."

"Absolutely not," he said firmly. "You do realize that our weekend started two hours ago, right?"

"And you do realize that if I don't get this report on Joan's desk then I'm going to be forcibly removed of my vital organs?" she rebutted, standing up out of her chair to make yet another grab for the pen. He leaned back, switching it to the other hand and effectively putting it out of her reach again. With a groan of frustration she backhanded him in the chest.

"Stop hitting me or I'll put this pen somewhere where you'll never dare come after it," he warned jokingly, pointedly fingering the waistband of his pants with his free hand.

"Try me," Annie huffed defiantly.

Auggie burst out laughing, shaking his head in amusement. "Annie Walker, you are quite certainly my most favouritest person in the world," he said sincerely.

"What kind of genius says '_most favouritest_?'" she asked, not entirely able to keep a small smile from sneaking onto her face.

"The one that has commandeered your pen and refuses to give it back until you grasp onto the fact that you are off-duty and should therefore be enjoying yourself," he replied without missing a beat. "And by extension, then I can enjoy myself too since you promised that if I got you out of Nepal in one piece then you would buy drinks."

Annie rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. "Oh I see what this is about," she concluded in exasperation. "You just want free booze."

"And pleasurable company while I consume it," he added with a cheeky grin. When she showed no sign of relenting, he sighed and rolled his eyes as well. "Annie, as your best friend I am telling you that this report, Joan's temper, and your internal organs will all survive to another day. Finish it later." He tucked her pen into an inside pocket of his vest and patted it very deliberately.

Even as she tried to maintain a rigid expression, she felt the corners of her lips quirk up in a way that only Auggie could ever manage. "You're not going to give up, are you?" she asked resignedly.

He faked a look of hurt and offence. "And I thought you understood me by now," he said and shook his head. Standing up off the desk, he offered his arm and, after a long enough moment to pretend she was still reluctant, Annie set her hand in the crook of his elbow.

Much later, as they were washing down their glasses of rum and coke with beers, Auggie grabbed her hand. Before she could ask what he was doing, he placed the pen into her palm and then curled her fingers around it. Grinning, he said, "You can have your hostage back now. I just wanted to make sure I got my repayment."

"You're a pain in the ass," Annie informed him as she slipped the pen into her pocket.

"Maybe," he agreed and then put on his most charming smile. "But I'm _your_ pain in the ass." Despite herself, Annie laughed along. Because honestly, she couldn't have asked for a better best friend.


	5. Lupine

**Lupine**: (adj.) Savage; ravenous; predatory.

* * *

Annie took a deep breath and then grimaced as the movement sent a spasm of pain through her side. The skin beneath the bandages felt like it was on fire. She paused and leaned against the wall for a moment, training her breathing into a steadier, shallower pace that didn't hurt as badly. Once she was ready, she pushed away from the wall and continued on her search.

It had been a hellish morning, even before the bullet hole in her side. What was supposed to be a simple intel-sharing meeting with an informant had quite suddenly erupted into a dangerous ambush. It hadn't escaped Annie's notice that this seemed to be becoming some sort of routine with her. They could only assume it was another leak, because her informant had been killed instantly and she very nearly had too. She'd managed to get away but not unscathed.

Of course, right now her concern wasn't the cuts and bruises that peppered her skin or the dull stab on the side of her left ribs. All she was interested in was the person who had never shown up in the med station after she'd come back. The voice in her ear that she was sure she'd never heard so scared, and that she hadn't heard since she'd been shot at and lost her earpiece.

Someone had mentioned to her that they'd seen him heading back in the direction of the tech room so she traced the path, peering curiously into some of the rooms she passed. Even though she hadn't seen or talked to him, she could tell that there was definitely something wrong. There was no reason he wouldn't have met her in the med station like usual, with some quirky joke and maybe even a contraband bottle of Patròn hidden beneath his jacket. He was always there to meet her when she came back.

She froze when she suddenly heard an angry shout from behind a door up on her right. It was an almost inhuman noise, a deep feral snarl that sounded as though it were echoing and was quickly followed by a heavy thud. She took a few steps forward and saw that it was the door to the men's bathroom across from the break room.

"You don't wanna go in there." Annie turned around and saw Greg, one of the techies, sitting in one of the hard plastic chairs of the break room. His expression was sombre, a wholly uncharacteristic thing for him in itself, and he was watching the door resignedly. "Trust me; it's best to just let him alone when he gets like this." She noticed that he unconsciously rubbed his nose as he said this, and that there was a faint bump in his nose akin to having been broken. "He'll come out of it on his own."

Shaking her head, she turned away from Greg - "Don't say I didn't warn you" - and pushed open the door just a crack. She peeked in just in time to see a whirl of dark colours pass by and, with another angry yell, collide with the wall. It was such a strange sight that it took several seconds for Annie to really process what she was seeing.

It was Auggie, but Auggie like she had never seen him before. His unfocused eyes were flashing wildly, his hair was even more of a mussed mess than usual, and, most terrifying of all, his usually smiling lips were drawn back, baring his teeth in a bestial snarl. As she watched, he let out another shout that sounded torn between fury and pain, and he crossed the room in three strides and threw his fist against the wall.

Apparently at that point he'd run out of steam, because he turned around and leaned his back on the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor with his legs drawn up to his chest. He made a small, defeated noise and hit the back of his head against the tiles before letting his forehead rest on his knees. His hands threaded through his hair and even from across the room she could see that his knuckles were brilliantly red and would certainly bruise.

Moving carefully, Annie pushed the door open a little further and slipped inside. There wasn't much physical evidence in the room of what had just happened, apart from what looked like a dent in the metal towel dispenser. She had only taken a few steps when she saw Auggie's shoulders visibly tense. "Leave me alone," he muttered darkly.

"Fat chance," Annie replied and his head snapped up, eyes wide.

"Annie?" he asked in surprise, staring about three inches to her left. "You're not supposed to be here. You're still supposed to be in the med station."

"I got bored," she said simply, taking a few more cautious steps forward. Auggie looked more human now, but she still knew better than to push her luck and didn't really want to do something to set him off again.

"You got _shot_," he said and she didn't fail to catch the way his voice cracked when he said it. "You should be resting."

"And you probably shouldn't be trying to knock out the wall with your bare hands," she responded. "They have tools for that, you know." He smiled, but it was very fake and obviously sarcastic. She crossed the last few steps to him and knelt down at his side. "Auggie, what's wrong?"

"How bad off are you?" he deflected, the muscles in his jaw tighter than she'd ever seen them.

"Not as bad as it sounds," she said. "The bullet barely got me, it just singed the skin a bit."

He nodded but he looked anything but relieved. "This shouldn't have happened," he said sternly and she briefly wondered who exactly he was reprimanding. That question was answered for her seconds later. "I thought I'd done all the checking I needed, but I missed that little detail and it almost got you killed. I got cocky and you got shot. This shouldn't have happened. I should have been able to stop it."

Auggie was getting worked up again to the point where she could practically feel the waves of tension and anger coming off of him. But at the same time, his eyes seemed oddly bright and there was a twitch in his cheek that made her realize it wasn't anger at all; it was guilt. Feeling her breath catch in her chest, she set a hand gently on his arm. He flinched but didn't pull away.

"I'm fine, Auggie," she said and when he made a quiet, derisive noise she squeezed his arm tighter. "This wasn't your fault, none of us saw it coming. You saved me. If you hadn't pulled up those blueprints and found that service way, I never would've gotten out of that building alive."

"I thought I'd lost you." The statement left him in a despondent whisper that made Annie's heart seize up painfully. "God, Annie, I thought you weren't going to make it back this time and it would be all my fault." He was blinking rapidly, trying to keep back the tears that were threatening at the corners of his eyes, and he let out a hollow laugh. "This is a weak moment. You're not supposed to see this."

Annie scooted closer, sliding her right arm around his shoulders. "We're best friends. If I can't see it, who can?" He laughed again, a short thing but at least it sounded more genuine, and a beat later his head fell onto her shoulder as they both drew comfort from the contact and the fact that the other would still be there for another day.


	6. Galore

**Galore**: (adj.) In abundance; in plentiful amounts.

* * *

Annie was leaning with her hip against the pristine kitchen counter, waiting for Auggie to finish getting ready for work. She had helped herself to a cup of coffee from his freshly made pot, and after she'd blown on it cautiously for a minute she took a sip. A quick grimace flashed across her face and she set the mug on the counter. Definitely a lot stronger than her taste.

On the hunt for sugar or creamer, anything to ease the bitterness a bit, she began curiously opening cupboards and checking the contents. One held a loaf of bread and a half-empty jar of peanut butter, the one next to it was full of perfectly stacked rows of plates and bowls. She found one full of little plastic bottles of spices, the face of each one covered in a Braille sticker over the top of the label. After getting halfway around the kitchen, she opened one cupboard and couldn't bite back the astonished laugh that burst out of her.

"What's so funny?" Auggie asked, rounding the corner into the kitchen with a raised eyebrow, still working on the buttons of his vest. Annie ignored him, reaching into the cupboard to grab one, and at the sound of the package rustling he straightened up. "Hey, get out of there," he said indignantly, and she glanced over quick enough to see that his ears were faintly pink.

"Seriously, Auggie?" she asked in amusement, examining the package in her hands and then looking up at the five nearly identical ones still sitting on the shelf.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," he skirted defensively, and even though he was smiling the colour in his ears had spread down the back of his neck. "I'm sure you have some sort of guilty pleasure stash somewhere in your place too."

"Guilty pleasure?" Annie echoed with a laugh. "Auggie, you have _six packages_ of Oreos in your cupboard."

"They're my comfort food," he said, an embarrassed smile on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "I like to indulge a little after a bad day at work."

"I think this qualifies as a bit more than '_a little_,'" she countered, fighting to keep herself from laughing again.

"To be fair, there's three different kinds of Oreos among those," he pointed out as a last ditch effort of easing the awkwardness. Annie curiously glanced over the labels on the packages and saw that besides the plain Oreos she still held in her hands, there was also a package of peanut butter and two of mint crème.

"I think you just might have an addiction problem," she teased.

Auggie rolled his eyes even though he was smiling, and he folded his arms as he leaned against the refrigerator. "So send me to Cookies Anonymous," he retorted dryly, making her laugh again. "Alright, enough browsing for you. If we don't hurry, we'll be late." Annie nodded and made a little affirmative noise, and Auggie set off to grab his cane and badge off the island. As she turned to put the Oreos away, she surreptitiously stole a cookie from the package.

Popping the Oreo into her mouth, she walked over to Auggie and took ahold of his elbow. "Don't think I didn't hear that," he said in an undertone, shooting a knowing look in her direction. In response, she just bit down on the cookie she was holding between her teeth, making it crunch loudly. He grinned. "Cookie thief."


	7. Orthoepy

**Orthoepy**: (n.) the study of correct pronunciation.

* * *

Annie rolled her eyes, and even though Auggie couldn't see it, he must have guessed what she was doing because he grinned. "You're being impossible," she informed him, fighting against a smile of her own.

"I'm sorry," he said, although the effect was slightly ruined by his playful grin. "I really am trying."

She seriously doubted that but didn't bother to voice that suspicion. "You know, you'd think with your super-hearing that you'd be better at this," she teased.

"Yes, well, even Superman needed dubs to be bilingual," he replied sarcastically. "Okay, let's try this again, see if I can remember it right."

Annie nodded. "What's your name?"

"Auggie."

"Auggie!"

"That's what I said." He laughed until she leaned over and punched him in the chest. "Okay, okay, sorry." He cleared his throat and spoke in broken Spanish. "Meh law-mo Auggie."

Annie bit her lip, torn between exasperation and amusement. "It's _llamo_," she reminded him. "Yah-mo."

"But it's an L," he argued.

"It's two Ls," she explained. "In Spanish that makes a Y sound."

"This language is ridiculous," he grumbled.

"You're the one who asked me to teach you," she pointed out, grinning. For being a genius, he sure was having a tough time of this.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "Okay. Meh yah-mo Auggie."

Annie laughed and reached over to pat his arm reassuringly. "Okay let's leave it there for now," she said. "We should probably get back to work anyway." When he nodded, she stood up and headed out of the tech office.

"Oh Annie." Auggie's voice stopped her in the doorway. "_Ceirra la puerta, por favor_?"

"Okay," Annie agreed and she'd already put her hand on the doorknob to close it like he'd asked when she realised he hadn't asked in English. "Auggie!" she said indignantly.

"What?" he asked innocently, although his eyes were twinkling mischievously. Then a look of feigned comprehension lit his face. "Oh did I forget to mention I took Spanish all through high school and spent three months doing covert ops in Madrid? Sorry, slipped my mind." He didn't get his arms up in time to defend himself from the annoyed swipe she took at him.

"So I've spent the last half hour struggling to teach you the basics of a language that you already know?" she asked in astonishment.

"First off: ouch!" he said, rubbing the back of his head tenderly. "And second, well – yeah. I was bored and it sounded like fun." As she rolled her eyes, he flashed her a roguish grin. "Besides, you know I love it when you talk foreign to me."

Smiling ruefully, Annie bent over and whispered something in his ear that made his eyes widen and the blood in his body momentarily divide between two areas of his body; his cheeks and – well, elsewhere.

"Annie Walker, wherever did you learn language like that?" he asked with a breathless, amused laugh.

After a beat, she knew the perfect answer. "From Jai," she lied. Auggie froze, stunned, and with a triumphant grin she turned around and headed out of the office. She'd only gotten four steps when Auggie called out from behind her.

"Touché, my darling. Touché."


	8. Schlep

**Schlep**: (v.) To move slowly, awkwardly, or tediously.

* * *

As a general rule, Auggie's life had been forced to slow down considerably since The Accident. Before Iraq, everything had been full-steam-ahead. Work was always, 'get in, get it done, and get out.' He had moved around effortlessly, never having to worry about running into the furniture – unless he'd had too much to drink of course – or waiting on the car service. He had been mobile and agile, fast and ready for everything. Even the littlest things, like walking from his car to the office, had been rushed into quick, long strides that carried him from point A to point B in the shortest time possible.

Then he'd gone blind.

Suddenly simple things like walking around his apartment had become long and arduous. And occasionally very painful for his shins. Without being able to see where he was going, he was forced to be more careful and not rush. In everything he did, he had to focus more on accuracy than speed, because he could no longer count on his eyes to pick out his errors. Even his very gait had ground down, slowing to accommodate the cane required to make sure he didn't fall over anything. For the most part it had been an inconvenience.

But then there were times like this, with a soft hand in the crook of his arm and a bright, teasing laugh in his ear and the scent of sweet grapefruit in his nose, that he really didn't mind taking his time.


	9. Couchant

**Couchant**: (adj.) Lying down, crouching, reclining.

* * *

Annie walked down the dimmed hallway of the DPD, revelling in the peace of the quiet. It was late and nearly everyone had already gone home. After hours of being chased around and shot at and then an unbearably noisy plane ride, the calm was a comfort. She had just come in to deliver her report and intel to Joan, and now she was eagerly looking forward to taking a very long, hot bath before crashing on her bed for at least twelve hours.

She had just passed the darkened tech office when she froze and quickly backpedaled. Her brow furrowed as she peered around the glass door, and then a smile broke through her exhaustion.

Auggie was sitting back in his chair, his crossed ankles propped up on the corner of his desk. The long and stressful day of talking her through her mission and getting her back to safety was evident in the way the front of his hair stuck up from running his hands through it and the shadows beneath his eyes. His favourite headphones were over his ears, and one hand was resting on the Braille reader beneath his keyboard while the other lay across his stomach.

And he was fast asleep.

Trying not to laugh, Annie walked into the room and squeezed his shoulder, shaking him just slightly. Auggie grunted, blinked bemusedly, and then jerked awake. His feet slipped off the desk abruptly and only her hand on his shoulder stopped him from propelling face-first into the computer. He quickly reached up and slid his headphones down around his neck, mumbling something under his breath, and then he stopped. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

"Annie?" he asked curiously.

"Good morning, Sunshine," she responded and perched herself on the corner of the desk. He immediately smiled and swivelled to face her.

"Welcome home," he said brightly. Then his nose wrinkled and he added, "You smell like gunpowder and baby spit."

"I hate flying coach," was her explanation and he laughed. "What are you still doing here? It's after eight."

"Me?" he asked and she could see him scrambling for an answer. "I was working on some encryptions and nodded off."

Annie smiled, because she could tell right away that he was lying. He had been waiting for her, wanting to make sure that she'd made it all the way home safe. She stood up and took his hand, pulling him to his feet before placing her hand in the curve of his elbow. "C'mon, Sleepy, I'll give you a ride home." He didn't argue, letting her lead him out to her car. Neither of them spoke on the drive to his apartment, Auggie half-asleep in the passenger seat while Annie concentrated on the road. It wasn't until they'd pulled up against the kerb that she finally spoke. "Auggie," she said and he turned toward her, his forehead furrowed in curiosity. "Thanks for getting me home safe again."

His smile turned from something playful into something very sincere and his hand found hers to give it a comforting squeeze. "Always, Annie," he promised. She leaned across and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, and his smile softened even more. "And thanks for getting me home," he added, making her laugh.

"Always, Auggie," she replied. He grinned as he opened the door and climbed out of the car. "Good night," she called after him before he closed the door.

"Good night," he echoed with a final smile before he shut the door and turned toward the apartment building. She watched him until he'd reached the front doors and then she pulled back out onto the road, feeling a warmth and contentment that she associated with home.

Because no matter where her work took her or what it put her through, she knew that there would always be someone to bring her back and waiting for her when she came home.


	10. Kith

**Kith**: (n.) Acquaintances, friends, neighbours, or the like; persons living in the same general locality and forming a more or less cohesive group.

* * *

Annie Walker had never really understood stability. Her youth had been comprised entirely of movement. Transitions. Upheaval. Every few months, just when it seemed like they had settled into some semblance of normalcy in their lives, the family would have to pack up and relocate. Any friends she made were cut off, and she quickly pushed them to that back corner of her mind where she could pretend they were forgotten. It was always the same. A new town, new neighbours, new schools, new friends.

Even after she'd left home, things had been a constant whirlwind. Determined to get away from her hectic home life, Annie had set off on an adventure around the world. She convinced herself that she was doing it simply because she wanted to, going to all of the places that she wanted to instead of being forced to go wherever her dad was stationed. In reality - and somewhere in that little shadowy corner of her mind she knew it - she was just continuing the life that she'd always known, only on a grander scale.

Instead of a new state, it was a new country. She toured the world, slipping easily in and out of cultures and lives as the fancy took her. In each new place she made friends with the people she lived near, experienced their lives when they let her in, and absorbed everything she could. And then once the newness had worn off, she would pack all of her belongings and move on to the next place to start it all over again.

Then her hurricane life had collided with an even bigger tropical storm named Ben Mercer and she had left the encounter the worse for it.

So she moved home. She sought solace in the familiarity of her sister, the only sort of consistency that her life had ever really known, and found herself living in the guest house beside the Brooks' household. She'd settled into a real career, albeit a bit quicker than she had anticipated, and discovered a place to fit in. She tried to tell herself that the reason she loved this new lifestyle was because it was still a bit like her old one. She never knew what to expect when she went into work each morning, whether she'd be sent to some South American country to rendezvous with an informant or go undercover in Europe while tailing a leak. Each new mission was filled with excitement and the unexpected, gun shots and explosions and improvisation to overcome the upsets. It was all dramatically unstable.

But beneath it all, there was a pattern.

She would get up in the morning and sneak into the kitchen, stealing a little bit of whatever Danielle was serving to the girls for breakfast. Michael would walk through, greet them all with a good morning on his way out to work. Annie would kiss both of her nieces before they left for the bus, and then when she'd head back to her room to get ready for work Danielle would remind her about Thursday night's dinner party – as if she could forget.

Walking into the offices at Langley, she would be greeted by the same faces. The security guards smiled at her as she passed, Conrad would occasionally fall into step with her for a minute for some shameless flirting. Joan would come into the offices and order them all to the conference room to brief on the next case. Jai would turn on the charm every time he ran into her – or pretended to run into her when he'd actually sought her out – and she would flirt just enough to keep him going before shutting him down the same as always.

And even when she was halfway across the world, dodging out of the line of fire from enemy assailants or turning herself into an entirely new person to keep her cover, there was always that same voice in her ear. Collected, sarcastic, encouraging Auggie, talking her through every new situation and making sure that she made it home. He filled her long days with playful banter and held her together every time she was threatening to fall apart at the seams. He was her best friend – and that in itself was a whole new kind of consistency that she had never known before.

So she would come home, back to the same house every night, and be met with the same people. Her nieces would shriek excitedly and hug her around the legs and beg her to play faerie princesses with them. She would listen to the family talk about their day over whatever mouth-watering dinner Danielle had prepared that night.

The next morning she would wake up and do it all over again.

Yes, somehow in the chaos of being a CIA operative, Annie Walker had finally found some stability.


	11. Shenanigan

**Shenanigan**: (n.) Mischief, prankishness.

* * *

Auggie held his breath as he flattened himself against the wall. His ears strained for the sound of approaching footsteps and his heart kicked it up a couple beats in anticipation. He felt a body press against his right side and he looked in that direction long enough to press a silencing finger to his lips, before turning his focus back to the sound of the light footsteps.

There was the dull click of a doorknob turning, the swoosh of the air exchange as the door opened, a sudden splash, and finally a short scream.

An explosion of giggles erupted from the area of his right hip and he had to bite down on his knuckles to stop himself from joining in. After a beat of stunned silence from the other room –

"August Anderson!"

Auggie couldn't stop himself from letting out a loud laugh at the irate voice. He walked around the corner into the kitchen with a pleasant smile on his face. "You called, Annie dearest?"

"This is the last time I am _ever _asking you to babysit with me," she said venomously. From behind Auggie, he could hear her nieces instantly begin protesting loudly. "And as for you two," she started, but she didn't get to finish. Both girls shrieked and the sounds of their retreating footsteps pounding up the stairs were almost drowned out by their giggles.

"I can't believe they left me for dead," Auggie said, shaking his head.

"Don't worry, I'll deal with them later," Annie assured him. There was a pause while Auggie tried to hide his grin. "How did you even pull this off? I can't have been gone for more than ten minutes."

Auggie laughed, finding the island counter with his hand and leaning against it. "I'm the youngest and smallest of five very devious boys. I could pull off a simple water-over-the-door trick in my sleep. Or, you know, blind and with the assistance of two very giggly little girls. And in the spirit of full disclosure, it was Kat's idea."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Annie said with what might have been an affectionate laugh, but there was a faint tremor in her voice that made guilt suddenly flare in Auggie's chest and he started toward her immediately.

"Annie, are you shiv–" His question dissolved into a startled yelp as he slipped in the puddle of water that had splashed around her feet. He reached out and latched onto the nearest object, which just so happened to be a dripping wet Annie, in an effort to keep himself upright, but all it succeeded in doing was pulling her down on top of him. They both landed with a heavy thump on the floor and Auggie felt all of the air rush out of him as he was crushed between her and the floor.

It only took a second to get back enough breath for him to start laughing, and a second later she joined him. "This water is really cold," he choked out, shuddering as it soaked through the back of his shirt, as well as from the front where Annie was.

"You don't say," Annie said sarcastically. The pressure on his chest had lessened slightly, but he could tell she hadn't gone far because he could still feel her breath against his face.

"I suppose I should consider this Karma, shouldn't I?" he asked with a grin.

"Most definitely," she agreed and he smiled wider at the amusement in her voice. Apparently she'd decided he'd been punished enough and was going to be friendly again. They stayed like that for a moment, Annie half-laying across his chest and Auggie holding onto her waist lightly, but then – at almost the exact same moment – they seemed to realise what a compromising position they'd ended up in, made startled and embarrassed noises, and released each other.

Auggie sat up when he heard Annie moving away from him, but a moment later she had reached down and grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet next to her. "I'll have you know that you're mopping this up," she informed him pointedly and he just smiled in response. She walked away, but then she came back and put the handle of what he assumed was the mop in his hand. After she'd turned him in the direction of the water puddle, she said, "I'll be back once I get the girls into bed."

He grinned and listened to the sound of her feet moving away and then up the stairs. Feeling strange while doing it, since it wasn't exactly something he'd done recently, he pushed the mop back and forth over where he hoped the water was at. He could tell the moment that Annie reached the girls' bedroom because there were loud, excitable shrieks from over his head.

It had been probably about fifteen minutes when Annie came back to find Auggie leaning against the mop handle. He glanced over in her direction at the sound of her footsteps and smirked. "Is this the point where you tell me I missed a spot?" he asked playfully.

She laughed as she crossed the room and took the mop from him. "You did," she said, and she hurried to clean up the last of the water. Auggie propped himself against the countertop while he waited and she joined him after a few minutes.

"So you're not still mad at me, are you?" he asked and put on a very over-dramatic pout.

Annie laughed, although there was something underneath it that made Auggie a little apprehensive. "No, I don't really hold grudges," she said. "At least, not after I've gotten my revenge."

He had barely opened his mouth to ask what she meant when something very sticky landed against his cheek. It took him about a quarter of a second to figure out that the sticky something had actually been a hand, her hand, and he licked at his lip curiously. Chocolate frosting. He remembered her mentioning a cake that her sister had made for a photo shoot for the catering website.

Inching his hand casually across the counter until he found the display platter, he warned, "You've started it now, Annie Walker." Plunging his hand into the cake, he then took a quick swipe and managed to get ahold of her shoulder before she could get out of reach. She laughed and turned around, trying to pry his hand off with her still sticky fingers. He reached across himself and got his other hand into the cake, and this time he found the side of her face.

They struggled back and forth for a while until both of them were laughing too hard to focus on the fight, at which point they slumped down against the counter, both covered in a good deal of chocolate frosting and cake crumbs. Auggie was the first to recover his breathing and said, "Danielle is going to kill us when she sees this mess."

"You do realise this means that you are now stuck here until tomorrow so you can keep me company while I'm scrubbing this kitchen from floor to ceiling all day," she said pointedly and he could tell that he had no choice in the matter. "Now let me find a washrag so we can at least get some of this chocolate off us." Apparently she predicted exactly what the mischievous look on his face meant because she added, "And the process will involve _no _licking."

"I can't even just get you out of those wet clothes?" he asked innocently. Taking a damp washrag to the face served as his answer. "You are such a tease. And a terrible killjoy, I might add."

"Don't push it, Aug, or you'll be sleeping upstairs with the girls and they can pester you all night for stories again," she threatened jokingly. He gave a dramatic shudder with his face hidden behind the cloth he was trying to clean his face with, making her laugh. When he looked up again she said, "C'mere, you've still got frosting on your forehead."

Once she'd finally deemed him clean enough, she led him into the living room and put on an older movie that he knew by heart so that she didn't have to supply a running commentary for him and they could both still enjoy the movie.

And Danielle and Michael didn't even bat an eye when they came home to find Annie and Auggie both fast asleep on the couch beneath a throw blanket in wet clothes and with chocolate frosting still in their hair.

Although they did end up on kitchen cleaning duty the next morning.


	12. Beek

**Beek**: (v.) To bask or warm in the sunshine or before a fire.

* * *

Auggie propped his elbows on the railing and took a deep breath. The air was still cool in the pre-dawn and it felt refreshing against his bare torso, clearing his head. The street below was quiet, or as quiet as a street in D.C. ever got, and it was calming. He took another breath, smelling the moisture in the air from the dew and the bittersweet sting of an autumn breeze, and felt the last of the tension leave his muscles.

He let his mind wander, forgetting about the dream that had woken him so abruptly that he knew he had no hope of getting back to sleep again. Instead he thought about everything else, both insignificant and important, while the air around him warmed and dried.

"Auggie?" The curious, sleepy voice pulled him from contemplating about a new algorithm he wanted to finish at work that day, and he smiled almost without realising he'd done it.

"Out here," he said over his shoulder. He heard the sound of bare footsteps on the hardwood from inside, and then a small huff as someone climbed out of the window he'd left open. The metal beneath him shuddered just slightly as the feet moved across it and then he felt a gentle hand on his back. "Morning, Annie," he said and inhaled the muted scent of grapefruit beneath his own scent coming off the shirt she was wearing.

"I think it's still too early to be considered morning," she grumbled and he laughed quietly when he heard her muffle a yawn. Her hand slipped down to wrap through his arm and her hair tickled him as she rested her head on his shoulder. "So, care to tell me why you're standing out on the fire escape at such an ungodly hour of the morning?"

"I'm watching the sunrise," he responded. He loved that she didn't even question this statement, just made a short hum of understanding. "It's coming soon, I can tell. The temperature's gone up like five degrees in the last minute." They simply stood in the quiet for a moment, enjoying the growing warmth and the company. Then he asked, "Are there any clouds near the horizon?"

Annie hummed under her breath as she lifted her head. "A couple. Not a whole lot, but some. Those long thin ones that look like feathers."

He smiled. "That means there'll be a lot of colour," he said. In his mind he put together a blur of golds and pinks.

The moisture in the air thinned even more and Auggie straightened up, feeling Annie come along with him. His eyes drifted shut. Against his arm he felt the flutter of Annie's long eyelashes and he smiled; she'd closed her eyes as well. "Here it comes," he breathed.

Warmth spread across his skin as the sun poured over the horizon, sucking the last of the chill from the air and bathing the world in a heated glow. In his mind, he watched the light spreading and bleaching the wispy clouds with brilliant colours. A small, contented noise left him, and at his side Annie copied it. "That feels amazing," she murmured and he didn't even bother trying to restrain his smug smirk.

"So do you," he said and was rewarded by the sound of her biting back a laugh.

"Okay, Casanova, let's get you inside before all the women leaving for work start gawking at you," she drawled sarcastically, placing a hand against his bare chest and pushing him back toward the window.

"How do you think I used to get half my dates?" he asked cheekily. "Mary, in the apartment across the street, mmm – she was fun." He stepped aside to let her go through in front of him, and she smacked his shoulder as she passed.

"Watch it, Anderson, or you're sleeping on the couch tonight," she said.

"It's _my _apartment," he protested with a laugh.

Her response came from inside the bedroom. "And your point…?"

Auggie opened his mouth before realising that he really didn't have much of an argument. Besides, if he made too good of a point, she'd just spend the night at her place for once to get her revenge. He'd learned very quickly that Annie Walker did not take losing all that well, in any aspect of her life. "Okay, fine," he relented, crouching down to slide in the window.

She touched his hand to let him know where she was, and then said, "I'm going to go start the coffee."

"Annie," he said before she'd gotten too far. The sound of her steps stopped and he finished, the sincerity in his voice clear, "Just so you know, there's no one else in the world I would rather watch the sunrise with than you."

Her feet crossing the floor quickly was the only warning he got before she had seized his face in her hands and her lips crushed against his in a kiss full of sweetness and passion. By the time she pulled back, Auggie's head was spinning. She laid her head against his chest and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her, holding her against him and nestling his face in her hair.

"I love you, Auggie," she murmured into his skin. It wasn't the first time she'd said it, but for Auggie every time he heard it felt like the first time and his heart did a familiar leap.

"I love you too, Annie," he replied with a smile and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

From that day on, they started to make a habit out of sitting out on the fire escape every few mornings to watch the sunrise together with their eyes closed and their hands intertwined.


	13. Anacoluthia

**Anacoluthia**: (n.) Lack of grammatical sequence or coherence, esp. in a sentence.

* * *

"And she just – but it was like he – and I couldn't – so he just keeps –" Auggie smirked as he listened to the sound of heels clicking back and forth in front of him through the aggravated broken sentences. He assumed there must have been some animated hand gestures going along with the rant that would make it make more sense, but that was just an assumption. "Does she care? No, and – _urgh_, it just –"

"Annie?" he asked and she quieted for a moment. "Sorry to interrupt but quick question: At any point in this conversation, do you plan on speaking in fluent English?"

There was a pause, a sigh, and then, "Probably not."

Auggie nodded. "Okay, just checking. Continue."

"And then she went and – _so er nur – e ei pensei_ –"

"Ha, ha," he cut in dryly and he could hear her trying to repress a laugh. "Hilarious, Miss Multilingual. Now would you sit down before you wear a rut in my floor?"

"Oh, sorry," Annie said and he heard her approach the desk and lean against it. "I'm just stressed."

Auggie leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, shooting a pointed look in what he hoped was her direction. "Annie Walker, you are an amazing woman and one of the damn finest officers we've had come through here – you know, after me of course. You have been all over the world and taken on the complete series of international assholes with perfect poise. How is it that you can't handle dinner with some lousy blind date?"

"Because he didn't pull a gun on me, that's why," she said and he couldn't help but grin at this. "I know what to do when some jerk tries to kill me, but it's a lot harder when you're trying not to cause a scene at your sister's dinner table while some guy tries to get handsy with you under the table."

"Sounds like fun," he joked and he could practically feel the fire of her glare burning through him.

"I just wish she would stop setting me up with whatever loser she can get ahold of," she groused and he heard a rustle of fabric that he assumed was her crossing her arms.

"You could always try just bringing your own loser for once," Auggie offered with a laugh. A second later he could tell by the little noise of comprehension she'd made and the hand on his forearm that he had just walked himself into a proverbial death trap. "I think I should be offended by the fact that when I suggest you find a loser, your first option is me."

"Please, Auggie."

"No way, I am _not_ going to pretend to be your boyfriend just so your sister will leave you alone."

"C'mon, Auggie. You don't have to pretend to be my boyfriend, just come as my best friend," she pleaded. "It'll be so much easier on me with you there."

"After everything I've heard about these dinners, do you really think I want to subject myself to that?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "What if when your sister finds out I'm not your boyfriend she tries to set me up with someone too? I can find bad dates easily enough on my own. No thank you."

"Please," Annie said and he felt her hand take his, squeezing it hopefully. "For me?"

"You know, this is one of those times where being blind is nice. I can't see the puppy look you're undoubtedly giving me," he said and she tugged on his hand impatiently. He sighed heavily. "_Fine_, but just this one time. And you're buying drinks tonight."

"You're the best," she replied enthusiastically.

"I know," Auggie answered unashamedly. "Oh and I suggest you don't call your sister and vaguely inform her that you're bringing a male friend to dinner next week until closer to the day. Otherwise you know that she'll spend all week trying to grill details out of you."

"Already thought of that," Annie said and he could hear her smiling. She shifted around on her perch and then let out a weary little sigh.

"That was an I-should-go-actually-do-my-job sigh," he remarked and she laughed.

"It's scary how you can do that," she informed him.

"Yeah well," he grinned and shrugged, "I might not know as many languages as you, but I'm at least fluent in Annie Walker. Or, well, okay maybe _proficient_ is the word. I think I missed something in the middle of your rant. Something about cranberry sauce?"

Annie groaned loudly and in an instant she had launched once more into her fragmented complaints that were commonly punctuated by annoyed noises. Auggie leaned back in his chair and made himself comfortable, smirking as he thought, God I love Friday mornings.


	14. Bilocation

**Bilocation**: (n.) The state of being or the ability to be in two places at the same time.

* * *

Annie slipped into the tech office and the moment the door had closed behind her, she let out a heavy sigh, even though it aggravated the still healing gunshot wound in her side.

"Rough day?" Auggie asked without taking his attention away from his computer.

"Try week," she responded. She crossed the office and perched herself on the corner of his desk. "I can't get rid of him."

This time Auggie looked up, his brow furrowed as he stared past her shoulder. "Okay, now you've lost me," he said with a small smile.

"Yeah, well I wish I could lose him as easily," she said and ran a hand through her hair in frustration.

Auggie seemed to consider her words for a moment and then he grinned. "Okay, I'll bite," he said. "Who are you trying to lose?"

"Jai," she said with yet another sigh. "I keep running into him all over the office. I swear, it's like he's everywhere at once, just waiting for whichever new place I show up. I even saw him when I stopped to get petrol on my way to work Tuesday."

Auggie frowned. "You guys live on opposite ends of town. Why would he be at the petrol station near your house?"

"I don't know!" Annie said in exasperation. "It's like he's tailing me. It's driving me crazy." She dragged a hand through her hair again and looked over at the half-sympathetic, half-amused expression on her best friend's face. Despite herself, she smiled. "I could use a drink. Care to join me?"

"Have I ever said no?" he answered, and grinned cheekily at her. "Just give me ten minutes to finish this and then we can go." Annie made herself comfortable while she watched Auggie tap away at the computer, the program codes running by so quickly that she couldn't read them off the screen before he'd moved onto the next part. Feeling a bit dizzy at the speed, she glanced through the office doors just in time to see Jai watching her from one of the cubicles. He smiled at her and she forced herself to return it, even if it was unenthusiastic, before turning back to Auggie.

A couple minutes later he had closed all of the work and he stretched before standing up. "Wow, that only took seven and a half minutes," she remarked.

"That, my dear, is because I'm amazing," he said and she rolled her eyes at him. They both gathered their jackets and then she linked her arm with his and led him out to her car. He patiently listened to her ranting about Jai and Joan and whatever terrible date her sister had set her up with at last night's dinner all the way to the Tavern, interrupting only to chip in a sarcastic comment that made her laugh and eased her frustration slightly.

The pair had hardly gotten four steps inside the tavern door before Annie suddenly stopped and hissed, "_Sonuva_–"

"What'd I do?" Auggie asked in confusion, jerked backward a little by her abrupt stop.

"I swear I saw him just before we left," she muttered angrily. "And he's already here. How is that possible?"

"I would say either an identical twin no one knows about, or he's into some high clearance secret government teleportation technology," Auggie put in and tried not to grin. "My money is on the tech."

"Of course it is," Annie replied and he heard her muted laugh. "This is ridiculous. All I want is a couple drinks in peace; can't he even give me that?"

Auggie paused thoughtfully and then said, "Well I have a six pack in my fridge and a bottle of Patròn in the cupboard if you're interested."

She emitted a grateful sigh that made him grin. "Great. Let's get out of here before he sees us," she said and turned him around. As they marched straight back out of the bar they'd only just entered, she added, "Aug, you're my hero."

His ears turned pink, but he simply smirked. "I know."


	15. Cacchinate

**Cacchinate**: (v.) To laugh loudly or immoderately.

* * *

Of the many things that Annie absolutely loved about her best friend and boyfriend, she was pretty sure that her favourite thing of all was his laugh. For as funny and light-hearted a person as Auggie was, he didn't actually laugh often. Everything about him was just grins or playful smirks, the occasional silent motion that was supposed to give off the impression of laughter. But he didn't really, honestly laugh all that much.

Annie pushed that random train of thought away as she shifted in the hard plastic seat, trying to peer around the cheap fast food restaurant without looking suspicious. She was on a simple pass mission and was waiting for her contact to show up. "Of all the crummy places to do this," she muttered under her breath, grimacing at the slightly nauseating smell coming from the greasy dish on the table in front of her.

"Oh c'mon, it can't be that bad." She heard Auggie's voice in her ear and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Everybody loves a little fast food once in a while."

"This isn't fast food, this is the sort of food that would give fast food cardiac arrest," she countered quietly.

Auggie made a short amused noise and she could hear the faint click of his keyboard through her connection. "Okay Annie, your contact should be there any minute. Remember, if anything at all looks out of order, if the slightest thing about this guy seems off, you get yourself out of there before he tries to kill you."

"Yeah, or I suppose I could just stab him with this –" she paused as she looked down at the plastic utensil sitting next to the plate and couldn't keep the surprise and confusion out of her voice as she finished, "spork?"

There was an almost explosive snort from the other end of the line, followed quickly by a ridiculously loud baritone laugh. It was such a hilarious sound that Annie had to bite down on her lip hard to stop herself from joining in, trying very hard to maintain her cover and not attract extra attention to herself. She could tell by the way the sound became muffled that Auggie was trying very hard to control himself and not succeeding very well.

"Annie Walker, you are positively the greatest thing to come to the CIA since me," he told her through his continued, if slightly more controlled, laughter.

She was still grinning as she looked up at the sound of the chime over the door and spotted the bright green bracelet that matched her own. "My contact is here," she whispered, busying herself with the black backpack containing the standard government-issued briefcase. "Wish me luck."

"Not that you need it," Auggie chimed in with the familiar response, "but good luck." Annie slipped the piece from her ear and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. With the backpack clutched loosely in one hand, she headed for the door. Her contact, also clutching a black backpack, made eye contact with her for a split second, and then as she headed for the door she collided with his shoulder. Both of them dropped their bags, muttered quick apologies, and then grabbed the other's bag. Without any further exchange, Annie left the building and headed around the corner to the waiting car.

. . . . .

Two hours later, Annie wrenched open the door to the tech room and stepped inside. Auggie looked up with a smile, and then wrinkled his nose. "Wow, the smell of that fried food really lingers, doesn't it?"

"Care to explain this?" she asked in reply, trying not to smile.

"Explain what?" he asked innocently, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that even his CIA training couldn't hide. "You'll have to be more specific. I'm blind, remember?"

Annie rolled her eyes. "I came back to find _this _sitting on my desk," she said and crossed the room, pressing the spork, wrapped in a plastic sheath, into his hand.

And as Auggie doubled over in laughter again, she was sure of it: that was _definitely _her favourite sound.


	16. Dégagé

**Dégagé**: (adj.) Unconstrained and easy in manner or style; without emotional attachment; detached.

* * *

Auggie was naturally calm. It was a personality trait that he had almost always possessed, ever since the days of being on the receiving end of a lot of abuse from his older brothers. He'd learned quickly that most of what they did, they did only to stir a reaction out of him. So he didn't react. He taught himself to be unflappable and left them dissatisfied every time they failed to provoke him into fighting back.

It was one of the things that made him such a great field agent. Nothing - not explosions or being held at gunpoint or even the most seductive of women - could make him give up his cover. Once he was in a mission, he would be in it until the very end. No one who had worked with him would argue that he was the best, plain and simple.

Natasha Petrovna was the beginning of the end for him. She made him feel, made him experience. She broke through his barriers and for the first time in his life she made him want to break cover. To tell her everything and share everything he knew with her and just stop being _so damn calm_. She made him angry and sad and wild and deliriously happy. She made him _live_. Even then, in his state of perpetual wonder, he had recognized the danger. And so when the job called, he had answered. Weeks later, he was undercover in the Iraqi desert and he had left the part of his heart that was attached to emotion back in a tiny D.C. apartment with a beautiful Russian anarchist.

Not even the explosion in Tikrit could change him after that. When he had woken up in the darkness he had calmly accepted the answers the doctors fed him. Joan approached him and told him that she had pulled strings to keep him on at the DPD, as the head of the tech department, and he had agreed without complaint. The moment he was well enough he had thrown himself into his rehabilitation and completed it in what the doctors told him was most likely some sort of record. And his only response was a smug smile and a short, playful comment. His usual.

He let everyone believe that he had slipped seamlessly into his desk job. It made the whole thing easier on him to just pretend that everything was alright. No one ever saw him get frustrated or upset, nothing more than the occasional sarcastic barb that was still light enough to be taken as a joke. Well, except that one time when he decked his intern.

Time passed and he grew continually better at making sure that his head was never anything but level. All of the things he felt - the rage and indignation and sadness and loneliness and uselessness - all of it was kept far beneath the surface until it transformed into a maddening desire to prove himself. To show everyone that just because he couldn't see didn't mean he wasn't still the best damn CIA operative of his generation, if not longer.

By the time that he ran into the familiar voice from the newscasts, Liza Hearn, at the coffee shop outside Langley, he was completely shut down. The plan came to him immediately, as if he'd been working on it for months, and despite the severity of it, the whole thing seemed cold and methodical in his mind. She apologized and he quickly pulled out his wallet in an attempt to pay for the coffee she'd dropped, making sure that it opened wide enough for her to see the CIA pass badge tucked inside. He could practically hear her interest flare.

He played his part spectacularly. He pretended to be the doting boyfriend, the one who was wildly crazy about her and equally in love with the idea of such a Romeo and Juliet romance. Even though she grew closer to him, and he managed to portray the part of getting invested as well, he still kept her at arm's length from his heart. It was just an op, and there was no room for emotions to get involved. Distantly he realized that he hardly even saw her as human, more like a computer program that he was trying to hack. He liked to think that he was just really good at his job, that he had a control over his emotions that should be envied by all, but deep in the back of his mind he knew what the real term for him was:

_Detached_.

He had become so emotionally distant from everything and everyone that he barely even felt real anymore. He wasn't a person; he was a job. And then she showed up. Annie Walker. From the very first moment that he smelled her Jo Malone grapefruit perfume, something inside of him cracked. He sensed something like a kindred spirit in her. Without him even realizing it, she snuck inside and began changing things in him. He started feeling again. Tension when she was out on ops; relief every time she came back; rage when protocol forced him to abandon her in the field; and even a faint trace of guilt when he felt Liza nuzzle against his chest in her sleep.

The longer they worked together, the worse it got. Their partnership was symbiotic and because of it they both were forced to let the other in, piece by piece. What terrified him were the times when he didn't mind letting her understand some little extra bit about him. She could understand him in a way that no one else could, in a way oddly reminiscent of a way he hadn't felt since before Iraq. Longer, even. They became dependent on each other, to the point where either of them got panicky when the other didn't come in for work.

It wasn't until he was sitting in his office, waiting for Annie to be released from her talk with Joan after the whole art auction fiasco, that it occurred to him what had happened. After all of the time they'd spent together and all of the things they'd shared, he had gone and done the one thing he promised himself he would never do again in this job:

He'd gotten attached.

And damn it all if she wasn't doing a real number on his calm. But maybe, he thought as he straightened up at the sound of the tech room door opening, maybe that wasn't so much of a bad thing. Because what was the point in living if you weren't going to do it right? And Annie Walker was, without even knowing that she was doing it most likely, teaching him how to live again.


	17. Zetetic

**Zetetic**: (adj.) Proceeding by inquiry; investigating.

* * *

Auggie drummed his fingers against the desktop thoughtfully, raking his mind for information. "Animal?" he asked into the headset.

"Yes," Annie replied from the other end.

"Friendly?"

"That's an opinion, Auggie."

"Okay. Furry?"

"Nope."

"Scaly?"

"Nope again."

"Feathered then?"

"Si."

"Flightless?"

"No."

"Local?"

"No."

"Auggie." Auggie quickly spun around to face the voice of his boss, being careful to keep his expression perfectly casual. "Please tell me you are not playing 20 Questions with Annie while you're working an op," Joan said coolly.

"Of course not," Auggie lied smoothly. "It's code; she's feeding me information about her surroundings. We're trying to make sure there's nothing suspicious going on around her so she doesn't wind up getting shot at again."

He could tell Joan wasn't really buying it. "It's an encrypted phone line, I really don't think you need to worry about codes," she said flatly.

Auggie just flashed a charming smile. "Well, better safe than sorry, right?" Joan let out a short sigh, but then the sound of her heels clicked away and he knew he'd gotten away with it. Again. Directing his attention back to Annie's muffled laughter on the phone, he said, "You're a cockatiel."

Annie gasped and then laughed again. "You are freakishly good at this game," she informed him in awe.

"I'm good at everything," Auggie answered with a grin. "So it's my turn now, right? Hmm, okay, got it."

"Animal?"


	18. Rubric

**Rubric**: (n.) A title, heading, or the like, written or printed in red or otherwise distinguished from the rest of the text.

* * *

Annie walked back into the DPD bullpen after having slipped out to get coffee, casting a confused look back at the third person to congratulate her this morning. She fidgeted her hands self-consciously, cheeks flushed. Was it really so obvious? Or was it just because the CIA employees were all good at picking up on those subtle hints?

"Good show, Annie," Bea said as she walked past. Annie barely had the thought to mutter a thanks. Now she definitely knew something was up; Bea wasn't exactly what one would call observant.

Four more people congratulated her before she reached her desk, and another while she waited for her computer to load. How had everyone found out so fast? She turned back to check the screen and saw an interdepartmental memo in her inbox. Curious, she clicked it.

The single line of the message was printed in huge, red, all cap letters right above the automated signature.

.

**_SHE SAID YES!_**

_August Anderson_

_Head of Department of Technological Operations_

.

Annie rolled her eyes and stood up, heading for the tech office. "August," she said sharply from the doorway.

"Anne?" he replied tentatively.

"Was it really necessary?" she asked in exasperation.

Auggie blushed and his grin was embarrassed. Before he could reply, Joan stepped into the office. "Auggie, as amusing as the news is, could we stick to using office memos for work?" she asked pointedly.

"Yeah, sorry, Joan," he said, his cheeks darkening. "I just – I got excited."

Joan glanced between Auggie and Annie, and there was a small, almost imperceptible smile on her lips. "Congratulations," she said. "Now back to work."

Annie waited until Joan had gone before she looked down at Auggie again. He had his typical confident smirk on even though his ears were bright red. "I can't believe you sent it in a memo to the entire office," she said with another eye roll. She walked over to his chair and brushed a stray curl off his forehead. "You are such a dork."

Auggie's grin widened and he grabbed her wrist, placing a kiss on her palm right at the base of her fingers so that his lip barely touched the slim band around her third finger. "Yeah," he agreed lazily. "But you love me anyway."


	19. Kenspeckle

**Kenspeckle**: (adj.) Conspicuous; easily seen or recognised.

* * *

Annie paused in typing for only a second, a small smile curling over her lips. "Hi Auggie," she said without turning to look back at him.

Auggie laughed shortly, walking the rest of the way to her desk and leaning against the corner. "I'm rubbing off on you," he said approvingly. "You're getting almost as good as I am at hearing people coming. I'm impressed. Maybe it'll help keep you from getting shot at for once."

Smirking, Annie twisted in her chair to face him. "Actually the laser gave you away," she admitted, and he tilted his head curiously. "The lights reflected off the floor and I saw them on my computer screen. The green glow kind of kills your subtlety."

"Hmm, you make a valid point," he agreed thoughtfully. When she stood up and threaded her hand through his arm, he let her lead him out of the office. They'd barely gotten out of the bullpen when he suddenly stopped, looking confused. "Wait, did you say _green_?"

"Uh, yeah," Annie said slowly. "Why?"

Auggie rolled his eyes. "That asshat," he muttered and then laughed under his breath. "Barber told me it was red."


	20. Gerrymander

**Gerrymander**: (n.) The dividing of a state, county, etc., into election districts so as to give one political party a majority in many districts while concentrating the voting strength of the other party into as few districts as possible.

* * *

"Okay, okay guys, we've got the count in," Conrad announced excitedly, and the volume on their side of the tavern fell to a dull murmuring.

"You know this is hardly a fair vote," Annie muttered, fingering the neck of the water bottle in front of her impatiently.

"Of course it's fair," Auggie countered. "Voting is the American way, isn't it? Democracy. I'm pretty sure saying otherwise is considered treason."

Annie snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah well considering that more than half of the people here are your tech geeks, I'm not so sure," she replied and folded her arms over her stomach. "Besides, we are not –"

She didn't get to finish as Conrad cleared his throat loudly, looking down at the tallied note in his hand. "Alright, so we've got seven votes for Annie's idea," he said, and then grinned, "and twelve for Auggie's."

Auggie laughed and several men leaned over to clap him on the shoulders. He reached over and found Annie's hand, and he squeezed it. "Great, so Alexander it is," he said with a broad grin.

"August, we are not choosing a name for our child based on a drunken tavern vote," she said pointedly, even though she was having a very hard time not smiling at the look of delight on his face. It was a look that had been there consistently for the last four months now, and no amount of mood swings or hormonal bickering had been able to get rid of it.

"What? None of us are even drunk yet," he argued. "Not even Conrad. He's honestly just that much of an idiot all the time."

"Hey!" Conrad said indignantly, looking up from his beer. "Okay I change my vote to Annie's side."

"That's fine, I still win," Auggie said with an indifferent shrug.

Smiling, Annie leaned forward and said quietly, "Maybe, but you could also be sleeping on the couch for a very long time."

Auggie's expression turned thoughtful for a moment and he nodded. "Hmm, if I didn't know better I'd think you were a politician. You are really good at this democracy thing. Okay, so we'll settle this like a normal couple then. Flattery and compromise, maybe? Would that work?"

Annie pressed a kiss to his cheek and then settled back in her chair. "I knew you'd come around."


	21. Jubilee

**Jubilee**: (n.) Any season or occasion of rejoicing or festivity.

* * *

"You know what today is, don't you?" Auggie asked, his fingers moving carefully through the air until he found the corner of the desk and then leaned against it.

"Tuesday?" Annie replied uncertainly, glancing up at her best friend.

A playful smirk crossed his face. "I'm hurt, Annie," he said, although he sounded far from it. "How could you forget?"

"I know for a fact that your birthday was two months ago, so what could I have possibly forgotten that's hurt you so much?" she asked, knowing the easiest way to get an answer out of him was to just play along.

"Two and a half," he corrected offhandedly and laughed when she swatted his leg. "Anyway, it just so happened to be a year ago today that you walked into Langley for the first time and were greeted by a mesmerising tech handler who swiftly became your favourite person in the entire world," he informed her blithely while he twirled his laser cane between his long fingers.

Annie was silent as she marvelled at this fact. She hadn't even noticed, or given the idea much thought at all, but he was right. Trying not to show him how much he'd surprised her, she joked, "I'm not sure what should worry me more: the fact that you've been counting the days since you met me or the size of the ego that makes you think you're my favourite person."

"Harsh," Auggie said in mock offence. "And to think I was going to treat you to a drink tonight to celebrate."

"I was kidding," Annie said quickly, making Auggie's smile resurrect immediately. "Of course you're my favourite person. Buddy," she added cheekily, pushing his shoulder playfully.

"Don't overdo it there, hon," he said in reply, sliding his hand across the edge of the desk until he found hers and patting it lightly. "Alright, I'll see you after work then." He stood up and then added, "Oh, but since I'm buying drinks, you're driving." Grinning at their private joke, he wandered back toward his office and left her to sit there and smile.

The moment work had ended for the day Annie had hunted down her best friend and found him already waiting for her in his tech room. It was hardly a half hour later that they were settled at a little table near the edge of Allen's with their beers, reminiscing on the way that things had changed over the last year.

It had been action and adventure from the very beginning for them. From that very first mission they had worked together, they had realised that they were an exceptional team. Both of them used to being the odd ones out, they had bonded immediately and from there it had been set.

He had been there for her when she had fallen apart in the restroom – all four times it happened. She had returned the favour on the few occasions his calm had slipped.

He had kept her going through the explosion of the Ben Mercer nightmare, when he'd swept in and out of town before dying in her arms. She had brought him back to himself after Tash had swept in and sent his mind spinning out of control.

He'd consoled her when the truth about Jai had come out, and she'd been at his back when the Liza Hearn thing blew up.

He had been a supportive shoulder when a fight with her sister had left her crashing on his couch for three nights until the storm blew over. And she had gone back to Illinois with him to be his moral support at his brother's funeral.

Things hadn't always been milk and honey between them. There had been arguments and fights and accusations and – on one occasion – tears. There had been that dreadful time when they'd gone two days without speaking to each other, that ended with Auggie standing around in the med station and refusing to let go of her hand while they stitched up the bullet hole in her leg and he apologised a half million times for letting her go into the field with anyone but him in her ear. It hadn't always been perfect, but they always ended up leaning on each other again at the end of the day and that's what mattered most to them.

"It's been a crazy year, huh?" Annie said, jerking Auggie out of his memories.

"Yeah, well, you're good at keeping life from getting boring," he replied with a smile and was rewarded with a soft laugh. Letting his tone become more sincere, he finished, "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

There was a brief pause and then he heard the scrape of her chair moving around the table until she was next to him. "To another year of this; Walker and Anderson, the best damn agents in the world back-to-back against all of the evil," she said and he heard the sound of her glass lifting.

Grinning, he lifted his own and said, "To kickin' ass and takin' names with your best friend." She tapped her glass against his, and they both quickly drained them.

And when she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering just slightly longer than might have been necessary, he couldn't help but think that maybe this new year would prove to be even better than the last.


	22. Soupcon

**Soupcon**: (n.) A slight trace, as of a particular taste or flavour.

* * *

Annie closed her eyes and surrendered her mind to her other four senses.

Her fingers traced over the angular jawline, brushing against a small patch of ragged stubble he'd missed when he'd shaved that morning. She coasted across soft skin, creased with laugh lines, and tangled her fingers through thick, silky curls. Her other hand was fisted in the soft fabric of his shirt, gliding her knuckles against a plane of muscle in his back. Warm, moist breath tingled on her face. Firm arms were wrapped around her body in a comfortable, secure embrace, but the fingertips against her back and the grasp in her hair were slightly stronger, a sort of wild energy – almost urgency – in the grip. The pressure on her lips was gentle but he was betrayed by the tremor of self-restraint that showed just how quickly he was losing his control.

She could hear the uneven puffs of breath coming from the both of them, erratic and fevered. There was the faint sound of music in the background, piano and a saxophone and bass and some sort of brass instrument, a trombone maybe. Her own heartbeat pounded in her ears, a frantic non-rhythm that she timed her movements to. Then there were subtler sounds; a scrape of coarse fingertips against fabric, the faint creak of the furniture as she shifted herself closer to him, the click of her fingernail on the button of his sweater. He let out a low groan and the noise seemed to vibrate through her entire body, rattling her bones until she replied with a breathless gasp.

He tasted of dozens of marvellous things that made bright colours blossom behind her eyelids. There was a faint bitterness, dull and half-hidden, from the morning coffee. Something spicy and tangy that she couldn't quite distinguish, possibly something he'd eaten. As she drew her tongue over his lip she could taste where her own lip gloss had come off on him, a sweet sort of floral flavour that made her think of carnations. Testing deeper, she found a powerful bite of cinnamon and mint, spearmint maybe, that she recognised from his breath every morning – toothpaste, she concluded. And over the top of it all, the blunt and simple coating of wheat and barley and hops that she could taste in her own mouth as well.

And the smells, oh god the smells. Beyond the mingled scents of their breaths, redoubling the force of everything that she had tasted, were so many other aromas. The stale lingering of coffee still hung in the air of the apartment from the early hours of the morning. Over that was the rugged scent of the leather and suede in the furniture. She could smell something a bit like apple, but it was strong and almost harsh so she could guess that it wasn't a natural scent. His clothes smelled of fabric softener and a little bit of lavender that made her think of crisp, warm sheets fresh from the launders. There was the smooth sharpness of the cologne he wore, something like amber and pine, strongest especially around the hollow of his neck, and then powering through it all was that overwhelmingly intoxicating smell that she could only describe as being explicitly _him_.

Annie stored each of these observations into her mind and relished the level of intimacy with him that it granted her. Because of the millions of things that he had taught her, this new way of experiencing a person, learning them through a whole new perspective, was by far her favourite.

"What're you thinking about?" he murmured against her lips, his voice significantly lower than usual.

"You," she answered plainly and felt him smirk. "I was wondering what it would take to get you into bed."

He let out a short breath of laughter that tickled the sensitive skin of her neck. "Just say the word, my dear."

Annie broke away long enough to say, "the word," very pointedly. She heard the rumble of his playful chuckle, and then he reclaimed her lips with renewed vigour and she was lost once more beneath a wave of touches and sounds and tastes and smells and Auggie.


	23. Rue

**Rue**: (v.) To wish that (something) had never been done, taken place, etc.

* * *

"Annie dearest, I know I'm beautiful but the staring is getting a little excessive."

Annie jerked out of her thoughts to see Auggie smirking at her from the other end of the couch. Trying to cover for her moment of awkwardness, she said, "Sorry, I was just trying to figure out how much bigger your ego can get before you need to find a bigger apartment."

He raised an eyebrow and his smirk widened. "For a CIA officer, you're a terrible liar," he informed her blandly. Annie was grateful that he couldn't see the colour spreading across her face, even though she was sure he probably knew anyway. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"You can keep your spare change but I wouldn't say no to something stronger," she answered. Nodding knowingly, Auggie wandered into the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of Patròn and two glass tumblers from a cupboard. When he'd come back, he carefully poured them both a glass and handed one to her.

"So are you going to talk to me now or continue to stare?" he asked when she'd taken a swallow of the sharp tequila. "Not that I have a preference, really. The staring is flattering – in a creepy, stalkerish way."

Toying with her shell bracelet distractedly, Annie contemplated just how to voice what she had been thinking all evening. "Do you have some one thing that you really regret? Like that you think if that one thing hadn't happened then maybe everything else would be better and none of the bad things that have happened since would be there?"

Auggie's smile faded just slightly, and after a second he drained his Patròn in one swallow. "I don't play the What If game," he said flatly.

Annie winced at the rejection in his voice, quickly averting her eyes and setting aside her half-finished drink. There was a tense silence in the room for a moment. Annie jumped when she felt a hand on her knee.

"Is this about the mission?" Auggie asked, his expression softened and his voice calm again. "Because you know there was nothing you could have done. It's a shame that those people died, but you had no choice. You didn't do anything wrong and it wasn't your fault."

"No, I know," she said quietly, even if she only half-believed it. "I was thinking about other things."

Auggie didn't press it, just nodded and squeezed her knee as they sank into the quiet again for a minute. "You know I'd given up on all of the 'what if' thinking, I really had," he said and his tone was entirely conversational even if the gaze he was directing at her right arm was more serious. "I was settled into this life and adjusting. And then all of that stuff happened with Tash and it all came back. I couldn't stop thinking about what it would've been like if I had actually quit the agency and stayed with her back then like I wanted to.

"I never would've had to break her heart," he said, his voice lowering just slightly and with an odd catch in his throat. "We could have stayed here and settled into a more normal life, maybe. I wouldn't have been deployed to Iraq, and I wouldn't have had to see all the horrible things that happened over there. I wouldn't have been in that explosion. I would still be able to see."

Annie watched him in rapt awe. He had long since stopped hiding things about his life from her, but he had never been quite so open and honest with her about this sort of thing before. It was like seeing her best friend in a whole new light, that rare light that transformed him from the unflappable expert that was at her back during everything into a normal human, a person who was vulnerable and _real_.

Auggie cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders to relax them. "And as tempting as that fantasy is, I always stop and make myself think about the other side of the argument too," he continued in a smoother tone. "Tash and I were already having issues before I left. Nothing that would've ruined us right away, but they definitely would have been in the long run. We were two people on the same track but trying to go in two different directions, and at two different speeds. It was a beautiful recipe for disaster.

"The guys from my unit, they were the best friends I had made since I'd joined the CIA. Those guys were more like brothers to me than any of the real ones I have. And I won't try to pretend that I love being blind, but I'm adjusted and I've accepted that it's who I am now. I miss field work, but I like what I'm doing too. I do enjoy the extra attention the women at the Tavern pay me though." He cracked a small smile and Annie copied the gesture. "And to top it all off, I get to play tag-team with the craziest newbie agent in Langley and she'll still put up with me to come over and keep me company on boring nights.

"So yeah, there are times I regret some of the decisions I've made, but I just keep reminding myself that while it might have lead to some of the bad things that happened, it's brought me all of the good ones too."

Annie stared down at his hand on her knee, unknowingly only centimetres from her own hand, as she thought over what he'd said. Her question had been brought on by the morning's disastrous mission, but only by association. The people she'd met had been contacts of Ben Mercer and since that point she had been wondering what her life might be like if she hadn't met him at that waterfall in Sri Lanka. She had been thinking about spending the day exploring the city, so what if she had done that instead of hiking to the waterfall and taking pictures of the handsome man diving off the rocks?

At the end of her three months, she would've boarded a plane back to the United States but without three very important things in her carry-on: no cryptic note, no shell bracelet, and no broken heart. She wouldn't have ever considered the CIA before Ben shattered her trust in men and made her feel so vulnerable. Maybe she would be working in a museum somewhere. Hell, maybe she would have wound up working for the Smithsonian for real. She wouldn't have to explain away the various bruises and stitches and gunshot wounds she'd received at work when she came home after a long trip. She could've met real guys and gone on real dates and maybe find someone to bring to Danielle's weekly dinners so she didn't have to sit through meals with those ridiculous losers her sister dug up.

She could be _normal_.

Still, she would miss things about this life. She would miss the excitement of never knowing where she'd be going when she got into work in the morning. She would miss the adrenaline of the field work, even if she wouldn't particularly miss the feeling of being shot. She would miss knowing that her job was making a difference in the world. She thought of the people that she had helped since she'd started; that little boy Walter, Ashley Briggs, Diego and Julia, Yahya. Who knew what might have happened to them if she hadn't been there to help them?

And she would miss the people as well. Icy cool Joan, who had clearly developed a bit of a soft spot for her even if she didn't like to show it. Jai, with his overbearing flirting but that sweeter hidden side that she still didn't quite understand but enjoyed puzzling out. Conrad, with his jokes and passes who never ceased to brighten her day. Margaret in tech, and her warm smiles.

"Annie, I'll be terribly humiliated if I've actually bored you to death," Auggie said uncertainly at her prolonged silence.

She smiled and moved her hand so it rested on top of his, and he relaxed. "No, sorry, I was just thinking," she said.

"A dangerous pastime, you know," he said but there was the faintest trace of a smile in his cheeks. He leaned over and picked up the Patròn bottle from the coffee table. "At least this sober it is. More tequila?"

"Definitely," she agreed. He slipped his hand from beneath hers to pour their drinks, but once he was finished his hand returned to its comforting place on her knee. "Thanks, Auggie. For all of it." In response he just lifted his glass in a slight toast and grinned.

Annie leaned back in the sofa cushion as she drank and watched the man across from her. Yes, of all the things that she would miss about the way her life had turned out, he would be the biggest. Her best friend, her supporter, her mentor and teacher, her techie, the voice in her ear and the one who talked her back whenever things went to hell. She was beginning to think that maybe all of the heartache was worth it just to have someone like him there to help her overcome it.

She had burned that cryptic note. That night she buried a shell bracelet in the back yard. And with Auggie at her side she knew that she would be able to fix that third piece of extra carry-on too.

She was done looking back.


	24. Subaudition

**Subaudition**: (n.) An act or instance of understanding or mentally supplying something not expressed.

* * *

If there was one thing that Auggie and Annie had mastered during all of their time working together, it was the ability to communicate with each other on a level that no one else would understand. With simple words or light and seemingly unconscious touches they could convey the sorts of things that they didn't want anyone else to hear. When there were other people around them, seventy-five percent of what they said to each other was solely through implications.

"Alright, Annie, head out," Joan said and started for the door. Annie had just turned to follow when she felt a hand around her wrist.

"Hey Annie," Auggie said. He was wearing his usual confident smirk and looking entirely nonchalant. Only Annie could see the serious spark in his eyes as they gazed at her shoulder, and feel the grip on her wrist that was just slightly tighter than necessary. "Try not to lose your earpiece this time, would you? It's really running up the CIA budget having to buy you new ones every time." Which meant, _It scares me when I lose contact with you._

Annie smiled and hip-checked his shoulder. "Oh but I know how much you love reprogramming a new gadget every week," she teased. Then she reached over and squeezed his shoulder, meaning _I'll be careful. _"So we still up for drinks when I get home?"

"Aren't we always?" he replied with a grin. "See you then."

Stopping in the doorway, Annie turned back to face him. "Wish me luck," she said pointedly.

"Not that you need it," Auggie answered, just as deliberately, "but good luck." Annie left his office with a soft smile on her face.

Sometime since they'd started working together their customary farewell had taken on a whole new meaning. They both knew what they were actually saying, even if they'd never actually said the real words yet, but for now they were content with what they had.

They would cross that bridge eventually, but for the time being it was nice just to know that it was implied.


	25. Tittle

**Tittle**: (n.) A very small part or quantity; a particle, jot, or whit.

* * *

Annie hesitated, staring from the hand held out in front of her to the little cylinder in her own hand. Auggie was frowning and she could tell he was getting impatient by the way his other hand was fidgeting. "C'mon Annie, hand it over," he coaxed.

"You're crazy," she retorted shortly, tightening her grip.

The corner of his lips twitched upward just slightly and he raised an eyebrow. "I've heard that," he said unconcernedly. "Now would you give it to me? We don't exactly have all day here."

"I'm still not sure about this," she said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other anxiously.

"Annie," he said pointedly, "you trust me, don't you?" She thought of the millions of situations where he had been the one she'd trusted, the only person that she always knew was on her side and who was very rarely ever wrong. At least on the things that mattered. As if he knew her answer already, his eyes softened. "So trust me on this."

She hesitated for a second longer and then placed the cylinder into his outstretched hand. He smiled and turned, twisting the cap off and shaking some of the contents into his palm. With a concentrated look on his face, he took a pinch of it between his fingers and carefully sprinkled it into the pan. "Okay, just stir that in and it'll be ready to eat," he said, crossing to the sink to wash the rest of the seasonings from his hand. Annie dutifully stirred the pasta sauce and then they dished their plates and settled down at the kitchen table to eat.

Wary, Annie took her first bite. Her eyes widened at the flavour and she let out an involuntary hum at the delicious taste. Auggie smirked. "I told you so," he said smugly.

"You were right," Annie admitted. "I never would've thought this would taste good, but it just works somehow."

"It's one of the fun perks of having a heightened sense of taste," he explained.

"Well I'm trusting your super tastebuds from now on then if it'll get me dinners that taste this good," Annie said enthusiastically. "Don't tell Dani, but this is even better than hers."

Auggie grinned triumphantly, trying not to feel too pleased with himself even though he'd just gotten a serious compliment and the promise of more dinners together with the girl he was steadily realising he couldn't live without. "Great," he said, starting on his own dinner. "Next week is mac and cheese with rosemary and nutmeg." He laughed at her startled noise.

Making dinner for Annie once a week was going to be fun.


	26. Ambrosial

**Ambrosial**: (adj.) Worthy of the gods; divine.

* * *

There was a short scream and Auggie felt his heart jump into his throat. He moved his fingers in unsteady circles as he listened to the choked breaths coming from beside him. At that moment he could be sure that he had never been more anxious is his life, just standing there and trying to stay calm and comforting while he waited for the word. The okay that would say everyone was safe.

"Auggie," Annie gasped.

"I'm here, Annie," he said, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly before picking up the circles again. He tried to take a small step closer, clear the last of the distance between them, but his thigh collided with a metal bar and he stopped, biting back a grunt of pain. No, this was as close as he could get for now.

He could hear noises, movements. People murmuring. Rustling. All of it was overlapping, turning the world around him into a hazy mess. He tried to pinpoint what exactly was going on, but this was entirely new territory for him and he couldn't put the sounds to things that he was familiar with. None of this was familiar. He was so out of his league. "Annie, how – is it – are we –?" He stopped, realising he was in no state to be able to form coherent sentences. Beneath his palm he could feel Annie shaking slightly.

His pulse was pounding painfully against his Adam's apple, and he heard Annie's shuddering breath. And then, "Auggie, she's perfect."

All of the breath rushed out of him and a smile finally broke through. "A girl?" he asked in awe.

"A beautiful girl," she answered. "She looks just like her daddy." An incredulous laugh escaped him at the same moment that reality began to sink in. A girl. He had a baby girl. He was a father. Annie touched his hand lightly. "Do you want to hold her now?"

Auggie hesitated for a brief second. Babies are so fragile, what if he held her wrong? But Annie squeezed his fingers and he nodded. Hoisting himself up to sit on the mattress beside her, Annie arranged his arms and then he felt her easing a little weight into his arms.

"Careful, that's her head there," she said and he slowly adjusted his grip until everything was settled comfortably. His baby girl squawked a little at being moved but then she stilled again. He simply sat there for a minute, getting accustomed to the warm weight in his arms and revelling in the fact that this day had finally come.

Freeing one of his hands, he gently stroked a finger along a pudgy little arm. "Hey there, princess," he said, not even caring that his voice was thick. The arm beneath his finger shifted and suddenly there were four impossibly tiny fingers curling around his own in a lazy grip. His princess made a soft cooing noise and he felt her nuzzling her cheek against his chest, right above his heartbeat.

In that second, Auggie knew that he had just transcended reality. Because that pure beauty, with Annie's head resting against his shoulder and his baby girl in his arms, made everything else, every bad thing that had ever happened, all of it disappeared.

He had never been a religious man, but he could say without a shadow of a doubt that he had found heaven.


	27. Arch

**Arch**: (adj.) Cunning; crafty; sly.

* * *

Annie had practically upended her entire guest house while hunting for her phone. Blankets had been strewn across the bed, the cushions on the sofa had been pulled out and then haphazardly replaced, and clothes had been shoved aside. She knew she'd had her phone with her when she went into work that morning, and she'd thought she'd put it back into her purse, but her bag was upended on the floor with its contents spread out in a semi-circle around her. She couldn't believe she'd lost another one already. She'd only had this one for two months after the last one had been fried in a lake when she'd had to dive off a sailing ship to escape a Ukrainian arms dealer.

"Damn it," she cursed under her breath, falling heavily onto the mattress in defeat. Joan was going to kill her when she found out she'd need a new phone. As Auggie liked to remind her, those things didn't exactly come cheap.

Her eyes fell on the bulky landline phone on her desk that her sister had had strung out from the main house, and she suddenly sat upright again. Maybe she'd just lost it in the office somewhere. If she dialled the number, maybe someone would hear it ringing and they could return it to her. Crisis averted. Lifting the headset, she hastily punched in the phone number – grateful that she'd made the effort to memorise it – and waited with bated breath as the dialtone bleated against her ear.

There was a dull click, a rustling, and then, "Hello?"

Annie froze in shock, because she knew that voice. "Auggie?"

"Annie?" he asked in reply.

"Oh thank God," she said and let out a relieved breath.

"How did your phone wind up in my jacket?" he asked and laughed.

"I don't know, but can I come by and get it back from you before Joan tries to call me for work?" she asked.

"No problem, darling," he said. "The Formaggio on Twelfth and Le Grand."

"On my way," she said and then hung up. She did a quick check to make sure that she looked presentable – she thankfully hadn't yet changed out of her work dress and had been mercifully free of gunshots and explosions so she was still in good shape – and then grabbed her purse and headed for the car.

Traffic was heavy on her way to the restaurant, and she tapped her fingers anxiously against the steering wheel, praying that Joan wouldn't call. They were working on a time sensitive op where they could need her to go out in the field at any moment, and it would be just her luck that Joan would try to call her into the office the one time she didn't have her phone on her. And she didn't even want to think about the water cooler gossip if it got out that Auggie was answering her phone on a Friday night. There was already enough speculation going around, no need to fuel the fire.

Hastily parking her car, she slipped inside and approached the podium. When she informed the man that she was meeting a friend, he nodded. "Ah yes, he said you'd be coming," the maitre d' said and pointed out where the table was. Annie thanked him and crossed the restaurant quickly, feeling a sense of relief when she spotted the familiar face of her best friend at a wide table near the corner.

When she was only a few feet from the table, the corner of Auggie's lips suddenly quirked upward. "There she is," he said brightly. "Hello Annie, nice of you to join us."

Annie paused and finally bothered to look at the table's other occupants. There were two women and three men, and there was something strikingly familiar about the men's dark hair and eyes, and the slants of their smiles. All at once it hit her and she realised what had just happened.

She'd been had.

For the last week and a half, Auggie had been complaining about a dinner he was supposed to be having with his brothers while they were in town. She knew his relationship with his brothers was tense, that the last time he'd even spoken to most of them had been at their other brother's funeral almost a year ago, but she had refused to let him talk himself out of going. Still, when he'd made a joke about bringing her along to be his arm candy, she had laughed and told him not to waste his breath. She wasn't going to play trophy girlfriend just so he could one-up his older brothers.

But now, as she looked at him sitting there alone with three men who were a lot bigger than him, she wondered if maybe he really needed this. She could see the glances the older men shot at Auggie, smooth and lean and youthful while they were all big and broad and stoic. And she could definitely see the appraising looks all of the men were granting her and her little black dress.

Well there was no backing out now. The last thing she wanted was for it to look like she'd stood Auggie up in front of his brothers, even if she hadn't meant to be there at all. She was calling him a sneaky manipulative jerk in her head – along with a few other colourful synonyms – and she fully intended to say them aloud to him later, but he was still her best friend and he needed her.

"Hi honey, sorry I'm so late," she said, dropping a kiss on his cheek before sliding into the chair next to him. Auggie masked his surprise quickly, replacing it with a cocky smirk in the direction of his brother's stunned silences. She looked across the table at the other men and said, "Hey boys. I think I met you all back in Glencoe last year, right?"

A half hour later when the older brothers were all embroiled in a rather loud discussion about football, Annie leaded towards Auggie. "I didn't lose my phone, did I?" she asked in an undertone, already knowing the answer. "You stole it."

"Stole is a mean word," Auggie replied. "It was more like permissionless borrowing. I fully intend to give it back. You can even have it now if you want it, it's in my pocket." He winked and Annie had to work hard not to laugh.

"You're incorrigible," she informed him.

"So I've been told. Often. Mostly by you." He grinned, but something in his eyes had softened. "But thank you, for staying. I really needed the back-up, you have no idea how close I was to strangling Andy before you showed up."

"Next time, try just asking me along like a normal person, okay?" she said and didn't bother trying to hide her smile. "I nearly had a heart attack when I thought I'd lost another phone." She slipped her hand into his on the tabletop, aware that one of his sisters-in-law was eyeing them curiously. As much as she wanted to be annoyed at him, the smile he was giving her as he brushed a thumb over her knuckles was just too sweet. Shaking her head, she murmured, "You, August Anderson, are one sneaky, sneaky man."

Auggie grinned and leaned in, his lips touching her cheek in a light kiss. "Don't you know it, Annie Walker," he whispered. "You're on a date with a ninja."

Annie laughed and rolled her eyes. It wasn't exactly what she would've imagined for a first date – not that she'd ever imagined a first date with Auggie, of course, because he was just her best friend and that would be crazy, right? – but she decided that this was nice. Even with his brothers bickering around them and the whole fact of being tricked into this, she had Auggie's warm hand in hers and he kept supplying sarcastic anecdotes about his brothers under his breath that made it impossible to stop smiling. Yes, she could definitely get used to this.


	28. Quaggy

**Quaggy**: (adj.) Marshy; boggy.

* * *

"I told you it was going to rain," Auggie said smugly. Annie rolled her eyes and smacked his chest. They were standing together beneath a narrow ledge in the park where they'd met for a Saturday morning coffee, taking shelter from the sudden spring storm.

"Yeah well even you didn't know it would come in this fast," Annie countered, crossing her arms in an attempt to keep in some of her body heat. The rain was chilly and her water speckled clothes weren't doing much for keeping her warm.

"I did warn you like five minutes ago," Auggie pointed out. "If we'd left then we might have made it to the car before drowning." As if to prove his point, he shook his head forcefully and his damp curls sent sprays of water in every direction. "Does it look like there's any chance of this clearing out as quick as it came?"

Annie squinted out through the sheets of thickening grey rain. "Doesn't look like it," she answered. "The clouds are getting darker and I think the rain's actually coming in heavier now."

"Right," Auggie said thoughtfully. After a pause, he nodded. "Well if we're gonna do this, may as well do it right."

"Do what right?" Annie asked in confusion. Instead of answering her, Auggie toed out of his shoes and then bent down to peel off his socks. Once they were safely tucked inside his shoes, he started rolling the cuffs of his jeans. Annie let out a noise that was torn between annoyed and amused. "Auggie, do you mind cluing me in on what exactly it is we're doing and why we're doing it barefoot?"

"We're making a run for the car," he said like it was the most obvious thing, glancing up to flash a smile in her direction. "And we're doing it barefoot because wet grass feels awesome."

Annie's first thought was that this man was going to get her stuck in bed with a serious case of pneumonia, although she highly doubted that telling him so would dissuade him in the slightest judging by the grin on his face. Then something else occurred to her. "We're going to run?" she asked sceptically, even as she stepped out of her shoes and gathered them into her hands. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"I trust you," Auggie said simply and held out his free hand. As Annie took it, trying not to think about the warmth that had blossomed in her chest at his statement, he smirked and added, "Just try to avoid the big trees, would you? They don't feel good."

Annie laughed and squeezed his hand. She stared out to her car, which she could just distantly see waiting for them in the parking strip at the edge of the grassy lawn. In her mind she was gauging the distance and mapping out a safe path that would keep them clear of things that could be potentially dangerous. "You ready?" she asked, looking back at Auggie.

He threaded his fingers between hers for a better grip and nodded. "Let's rock this," he said with a playful smile. "Lead the way, I'll be right beside you."_ Like always_, Annie added in her mind. Bracing herself, she tugged Auggie's hand to get him moving and then stepped out into the storm.

Almost instantly she was soaked through. Her clothes stuck to her skin as she jogged, and once she realised Auggie was easily keeping pace with her she sped up. The soft ground sank deep under her feet like she was running in marshmallow, and the grass was cool and slick between her toes. Auggie was right; it felt amazing.

She slowed her pace as they finally neared her car and she felt Auggie bumping into her shoulder as he adjusted his speed as well. When they reached the car she placed his hand on the hood, giving him a quick warning about the kerb as he wound his way around to the passenger door. She dug through her pockets and found the keys, pressing the button to unlock the doors, and they both fell into their seats and slammed the doors against the weather.

It took Annie a second to clear the water from her ears enough to realise that she was actually hearing what she thought she was; in the passenger seat, Auggie was laughing. She looked over at him in surprise, seeing him leaning against the window with his drenched clothes and his soaked curls plastered against his forehead and a broad, childish grin on his face. It was infectious, and within seconds she found herself laughing too.

They were both shivering through their chuckles before either of them calmed down enough to talk. "That was fun," Auggie said brightly.

"Cold but fun," Annie agreed. She quickly plunged the key into the ignition, turning it so the car's heaters kicked on and pushed lukewarm air out over them.

Auggie seemed to be contemplating for a second and then he said, "C'mon. I think I hear some towels, dry clothes, and chicken soup calling us from back in my apartment. Sound like a plan?"

"Sounds like a perfect plan," Annie said and Auggie was laughing again as she hastily reversed the car out of the parking stall.


	29. Burlesque

**Burlesque**: (n.) Involving ludicrous or mocking treatment of a solemn subject.

* * *

Annie let out a heavy sigh as she listened to Auggie mockingly paraphrase the movie's dialogue in a high, simpering voice. He'd been doing it off and on for most of the film so far, picking up on the slightest flaws in the voices or delivery of the dialogue and using it for ridicule. He had even made a fair amount of comment on physical things in the movie, joking about the stiff way a character stood or a strange motion that made them seem off, betraying the fact that he'd seen this movie quite a few times before when he could see. It was getting annoying as hell, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't fighting back laughs the entire time.

"You are impossible to watch movies with, you know?" she cut in, interrupting his interpretation of what was supposed to be a dramatic argument scene.

Auggie immediately smirked. "I believe my inability to watch movies is common knowledge by now, my dear," he pointed out.

Annie sighed again and rolled her eyes. "Not what I meant and you know it," she said and his grin widened. "C'mon, it's a classic. Do you really have to ruin it?"

"I'm not ruining it," he defended. "I'm commentating. You know, for our visually impaired viewers."

"Meaning you," she said dryly.

Auggie shrugged and leaned back into the couch. "What can I say? I like to provide fair opportunities to everyone." Annie shook her head but gave him up as a lost cause, making herself comfortable to continue watching the movie. There were only five minutes of silence before a smiling Auggie picked back up on his favourite hobby again, just to hear the annoyed huffs Annie sent his way.

During a bit of a lull in the movie, Auggie turned in her direction and said, "You know, I never would've figured you for a fan of _Casablanca_. I never would've placed you as a romantic movie kind of girl, especially not after the Hitchcock marathon we had last week."

Annie smiled fondly, remembering listening to Auggie complaining about the fact that _Birds _hadn't even had an exciting score for him to listen to. "I don't know, I guess I just like the story," she said, and he could hear the way her voice had quieted slightly. She was drawing in on herself. Self-conscious about something. "How they had that whirlwind romance, and then they meet up years later and they're still in love. But Ilsa's sort of moving on, and she's back with her husband and Lazlo's this stable guy she can depend on to take care of her. And then even though all of these old sparks start up again, in the end everyone knows that it's best for her to leave Rick behind and find safety with her husband. It's just – I like it."

Suddenly all of the pieces clicked together in Auggie's mind and left him momentarily stunned. He knew who she was thinking of when she saw Rick Blaine on screen, the man who'd left behind his country and loyalties to handle things his own way: Ben Mercer. Ilsa was Annie, the beautiful woman with her heart torn between two lives and two loves. And he could even see how he fit into the puzzle, as the fiercely loyal man who'd been injured by the foreign enemies but who was all the more determined to fight for freedom and whose main goal in life was to make sure she was safe. It was a bit abstract, but now that it was in his head, he knew he'd never think of the classic film the same way again.

Nodding solemnly, he reached out carefully until he found her arm, and then he squeezed her hand comfortingly. He distantly noted that the bracelet she used to wear had been mysteriously absent for a few weeks but he didn't comment on it. "You're right," he said. "It's a good story."

Annie didn't say anything but he felt her draw closer to him and she leaned against his side, leaning her head into his shoulder as he looped his arm across her shoulders. They sat through the rest of the movie in silence, so quiet that Auggie thought she might have fallen asleep but didn't want to risk waking her just in case. She'd had a long day, he didn't mind letting her sleep if she needed to.

When the end credits began rolling, Annie finally stirred. She sat up and pulled out from beneath his arm, and he could hear the sound of her socked feet padding against the carpet as she crossed the room to the television. "Oh, it's getting kind of late," Annie said and he could hear the surprise in her voice. He hastily checked his watch and grimaced at the hour, not having realised that much time had gone by already. "I'll drive you home."

The drive to his apartment was short and mostly quiet, but it was more like the comfortable quiets they fell into often while they were working on other things and just enjoying being in the other's company. Annie parked the car against the kerb in front of his building, and he could hear her smile as she said, "Your stop, Mr. Anderson."

Auggie smirked but he reached over and found her hand again. "You going to be okay?" he asked gently.

Annie knew instantly what he was talking about, and she squeezed his fingers in response. "Don't worry, I'll be fine," she said and he could tell that she was being honest with him. He nodded and lifted her hand, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles.

He opened the door but before he stepped out, he turned back to face her again. "Oh and Annie," he smiled, tipped an imaginary hat, and winked, "here's looking at you, kid." She laughed, and then surprised him by kissing him right at the corner of his mouth.

"Thanks, Auggie," she said. He nodded, working desperately to maintain some semblance of his normal calm, and climbed out of the car.

"Night, Annie," he said and waited just long enough to hear her respond before closing the door and starting toward his building. And as he stepped into his apartment and gingerly touched the spot she'd kissed, he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something beautiful.


	30. Wend

**Wend**: (v.) To pursue or direct (one's way).

* * *

Annie stumbled and felt the hand around her shoulder tighten. "You alright?" Auggie asked from behind her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said and took a deep breath, trying to regain her bearings. "This is just a lot harder than it looks."

She heard his short chuckle. "Does it look that easy? I wasn't watching." Annie smiled a little at his joke. "Okay, just take it slow."

Annie nodded and concentrated on her movements. Right forward, swing left. Left forward, swing right. She moved slowly, her bare feet quiet against the hardwood, and Auggie kept close behind her with his hand on her shoulder as his lead. It took all of her focus to maintain the rhythm, fighting against her body's natural instincts to keep the pattern going.

A dull click in front of her was coupled with a faint tremor in her hand and she froze. "It's just the end table, Annie," Auggie said and she could hear him smirking. "Just go around it." Nodding again, Annie had to think about where the sound had come from and then adjusted her direction so she would be walking around it.

It had been an innocent curiosity that had gotten her into this situation. While taking a walk around the block with Auggie, who had been restless from being cooped in his office for the last three days on an op, she had been mesmerized by the way that he moved so effortlessly on his own. With his cane in his hand, he could keep an easy pace with her and managed to avoid litter, animals, running children, and even a stray skateboard that had been left on the pavement in front of an apartment building, all without looking like he was putting any conscious effort into the routine.

So when they'd gotten back to his flat, she'd asked him about it, and his suggestion that she give it a try had resulted in her wandering around his living room with his tie as a blindfold, his cane in her hand and his hand on her shoulder as he followed her.

"How long did it take you to get this down?" Annie asked as they cut around the edge of the kitchen island.

"A couple weeks to get the basics, and then it's just been trial and error ever since," Auggie answered casually. "The longer you do it, the more you pick up on little things that help. You're not doing half bad, you know."

Right as he said that, Annie rounded a corner too sharply without checking properly and bumped her knee against the corner of the sofa. "Ow, yeah, right," she agreed sarcastically, opening her eyes to check the damage. "It's amazing how easy you make it look. It's like you don't even have to think about it."

"I don't anymore," Auggie said and she glanced over her shoulder in time to see him shrug. "Had enough, have you?" he added with a smirk.

"My shin is still stinging from the coffee table," Annie said with a laugh. He slid his hand down to her elbow and let her lead him back to the couch where they settled themselves in.

"Yes well I'm sure the coffee table wouldn't mind an aspirin either after that hit," he teased, grinning when she reached over to shove his chest. "Really though, you did better than I was expecting. I was kind of thinking we were in for a disaster film."

"Your faith in me is encouraging," Annie said dryly as she folded his cane and laid it on the table.

Auggie just smiled. "Hey if we keep this up then maybe one of these times you can go undercover as a blind person," he said. "Nobody would suspect you of being a spook then."

"Right, because everyone always assumes the blind person's innocent," Annie said and nudged him with her elbow.

"It's how I get away with everything," Auggie agreed unashamedly. "One of the surprise perks. Besides, it would be awesome to see people's reactions when the blind chick suddenly steals the bad guy's gun and takes out all the terrorists with deadly accuracy."

Annie smiled at his enthusiasm. "I bet you could probably do that," she said and she mostly meant it too. Her best friend was just as good at most things as many sighted people were, occasionally better, and she wouldn't put it passed him to have found a way to be a good marksman too.

"Probably," Auggie said with another shrug. "I don't know though, Joan won't let me carry a gun. She seems to think that it would end with me saying I _accidentally_ put a bullet in Jai Wilcox. I don't know where she gets these strange ideas from, honestly." Annie laughed at the flippant comment, but she knew him well enough to be able to detect the emotion he was carefully schooling. Part sadness, part jealousy, part hurt, and part longing. It was Auggie missing being a field agent.

"C'mon," Annie said suddenly, taking his hand and standing up. When he just looked confused, she tugged on his arm lightly. "Pizza break. There's that great pizza place down the street, we can go down there. Besides, the walk will do us both some good. I know the last thing you want to be doing right now is sitting around."

"Amen to that," Auggie agreed and finally stood up. She pressed his cane into his hand, but he just smiled as he tucked it into his pocket and placed his hand in her elbow. They gathered their things and the conversation had turned light and playful again as they made their way to the local pizzeria. And although Annie would never say it aloud to him, as he teased her about her crash course through his furniture she felt closer to him than ever at having had the chance to share a little bit of his world.

Maybe one day she'd take him up to the firing range with her and see just how much trouble they could get into together.


	31. Jactation

**Jactation**: (n.) A restless tossing of the body.

* * *

Annie groaned at the nudge on her shoulder, trying to bury her face into the pillow and go back to sleep. She had no idea what time it was, but she did know that there was no way she'd gotten a full night of sleep yet. Which meant there was no reason to be awake. She pulled the blankets tighter around her body and ignored the second bump against her shoulder. It had been a late night after a long weekend in Finland and all she wanted to do was curl down inside her warm nest and sleep until she felt one-hundred-percent again.

Unfortunately it seemed that fate had other plans for her night, because at that moment the bedroom was illuminated in a flash of light that glowed red through her eyelids. Four seconds later a dull rumbling sounded. A thunderstorm. _Great_, she thought wryly. _So much for getting any sleep_. There was no way she would be getting any sleep through all of that noise.

A second crash of thunder was accompanied by a sharp prod in her back, and she grimaced. _What in the hell…?_ She rolled over and opened her eyes blearily, squinting through the dark to see what was going on. She could barely make out the face next to hers, but she could be sure of one thing: it wasn't the face of someone sleeping peacefully.

"Auggie?" she murmured concernedly, feeling infinitely more awake as she sat up and moved closer. Every muscle in his body was tense, his back almost bowed with the force of it, and she could see the glow of a sheen of cold sweat on his bare skin. As she watched, he twitched violently and then moaned, his hands fisted in the sheets and his teeth clenched. "Auggie, what's wrong?" she asked cautiously, afraid of startling him. A pained gasp was her only response.

Tentatively, she placed a hand on his shoulder. Auggie made a startled noise and tried to recoil, his eyes darting frantically beneath their lids. With her other hand she brushed aside some of the curls that were plastered to his forehead. "Auggie, calm down, it's just a dream," she said as soothingly as she could muster. He continued to thrash and moan, gradually growing worse as the seconds went by.

Annie had just considered forcing him to wake up somehow when a particularly loud crack of thunder split the air outside their building and Auggie bolted upright with a strangled scream. His hands flew up to close around her wrists tightly and his sightless eyes flicked to her face when she gasped in surprise. He was snarling, his entire body still tensed and prepared for a fight, but in his eyes she could see what it really was. _Fear_.

"Auggie, it's me," she said carefully, barely daring to breathe.

Auggie didn't relax, but his snarl faded and he loosened his grasp on her wrists slightly. "Annie?" he asked and his voice was a hoarse croak. His breathing caught and she watched his lower lip shudder, his head turning around as if he was looking for some clue as to what was happening. There was a note of scared desperation in his voice when he spoke again. "Annie, what…"

"It was just a dream, Auggie," she said slowly, deliberately. "You were having a nightmare. Everything's okay."

Another peal of thunder made Auggie tense again and she saw the fear spasm across his features, watched his fight or flight reflexes spur into action again. And suddenly she understood. It was the noise that frightened him, the sound so much like an explosion. He had been dreaming that he was back in Tikrit.

"Auggie, you're home and you're safe," she said, willing herself not to get emotional at his terror. He was her unshakeable Auggie, her port in the storm, and seeing him so vulnerable was one of the scariest things she had seen in all of her time working for somewhere where frightening circumstances were a daily occurrence. "You're okay."

Auggie drew her hands up to his face, placing them on his cheeks and closing his eyes, leaning into her touch. She brushed her thumbs gently across the skin beneath his eyes, biting her lip when she felt moisture there. Before she could really comprehend what was going on, he was in her arms, his head nestled into the hollow of her shoulder. She could feel him shaking as she wrapped her arms around him as tightly as they'd go.

"Annie, I'm sorry," he mumbled into her neck but she cut him off by making a soft shushing noise. She threaded one of her hands through the back of his hair and did everything she could to calm him, talking to him quietly every time a new round of thunder made him grasp at her desperately. Eventually, when the thunder had started coming further and further apart, she managed to get him to lay back down again. Tangled together as much as they could possibly be and wrapped up snugly in the blankets, Auggie finally drifted back to sleep with his head against her chest, his ear over her steady heartbeat.

And as Annie stroked his hair and gently rubbed at the tight muscles along his spine, she felt a new sense of peace that she hadn't known before. Knowing that she could help the man she loved in his time of need, that she could be his port in the storm, was the most satisfying feeling she could think of.

It was about time she got to return the favour anyway.


	32. Imago

**Imago**: (n.) An idealised concept of a loved one, formed in childhood and retained unaltered in adult life.

* * *

Every since she was a little girl, Annie had had fantasies about the sort of man she would someday marry. By the age of six she had created an image of the perfect man inside her head, one that she retained through adolescence and into adulthood with only slight variations.

He was always big, tall and strong with a broad chest and shoulders. Someone who could protect her when she was scared. She imagined him to be like her daddy, the towering military man that chased the monsters out of her closet every night before bed. She was a strong girl, but she needed a man who could be strong for her when she wasn't. Someone to fight away all of the bad guys that she couldn't.

He was stubborn and smart and liked to argue with her. Annie had always loved arguing with people, ever since she learned how to talk. It was fun and she was good at it, always good at turning words around on people and finding ways to make them agree with her. There weren't a lot of people as good at it as she was, so she wanted to have someone that she could argue with forever and never get bored of it.

He liked to have adventures and do new things. She was curious and brave and always tried to do the things that other people wouldn't have dared to. She was the first one in her year to climb all the way to the top of the oak tree in the school yard in Detroit, and that was the sort of quality she never grew out of. If she was going to spend the rest of her life with someone, she wanted it to be someone that would climb the trees with her.

His appearance was the one place where her ideas varied the most as time went on. At first she just imagined him to look a lot like her daddy. Then as she'd gotten older, he'd started to look more like her favourite actors from the television or a singer from a band she liked. He was always much bigger than her though, and his eyes were always bright. She had hazel-brown eyes and she hated them. She loved men with bright green or blue eyes, the sort that were so bold they made her breath catch in her chest.

But most importantly of all, he would love her. As a little girl she remembered the way that when her dad would come home every night, he would kiss her and Dani and then he'd pull their mum into the tightest hug he could muster. It was like even though he was only gone for a few hours, he missed her like he'd been gone for years. She wanted a man like that, the sort of man who needed her like air and who could always make her feel loved.

As the church doors opened and she took her father's arm, she couldn't help but compare the man at the end of the aisle to the fantasy left over from her childhood.

Everything about him was thin and narrow, long and lean. He looked so small with his broad-shouldered best man next to him, but she knew better. He was deceptively strong. He knew how to defend himself and he knew how to protect her, and had been doing it as long as they'd known each other. He was a military man, just like her daddy, and that was the sort of mentality that never went away. He saved her from herself in dark times and when she felt weak he would shield her until she found her strength again. It was his voice that kept her safe, and she knew that nothing could ever hurt her while he was around.

Their arguments were always playful banter. He was smart and witty and sarcastic and filled with dry humour and great turns-of-phrase. They argued about whether coffee was better with sugar or creamer, or which Mingus album was the best, or whether Nancy Drew was better than the Hardy Boys. Whenever they broached serious subjects, he didn't argue with her. He listened to her opinions and gave them full consideration, whether he ended up agreeing with her or not. They debated and discussed, but never fought over things. It was calm and academic and enlightening, but it was never boring.

He was the bravest man she had ever known, even if he was afraid of thunderstorms, seagulls, and country music. Despite the added risk for him, he was ready to do anything asked of him. He was daring and reckless and adventurous. It had gotten him into more than his fair share of trouble, and she had spent more than her fair share of time worrying about him after those moments. But in all honesty, the bravest thing that he did was simply getting up in the morning and trying. He faced the unknown every day, struggling through a world that was only marginally accommodating, and did it without backing down.

He was taller than her, but hardly bigger. He didn't look anything like her father, or even like any of the various rock stars and actors she'd loved in her lifetime. His face was narrow and carved with equal parts laugh and worry lines, and his curly hair hung long over his wide forehead, but not quite long enough to cover his large ears. At the moment he was licking his lips nervously, fidgeting in his suit, as his gaze followed the general direction of the sound the doors had made as they opened. And his eyes were dark; a deep, rich brown that made her think of hot fudge sundaes.

But most importantly of all, he loved her. She could see it in his face when they were together, the way he'd brighten up at hearing her approach, the expression that stole over him when they were laying tangled together and just enjoying the feel of being together. She could hear it in his voice when he wished her luck before each mission, or when he talked her through a task with carefully controlled fear, or when he moaned her name in bed, or whispered goodnight to her as she drifted off in his arms. Their lives had become all about habits revolving around each other, to the point that the other person's absence could send the entire day into a confusing tailspin. There was wildness and passion and fire, but there was also comfort and familiarity and ease. And every time that she came back from a mission, he hugged her like he would never let go.

No, she had never imagined that she would marry a lanky, nerdy, tequila loving, former army ranger, CIA techno geek. But as she reached the altar and placed her hand in his, and he smiled that boyish grin that made her heart melt, she couldn't imagine there being a more perfect man in the world to spend the rest of her life with.


	33. Echolocation

**Echolocation**: (n.) the general method of locating objects by determining the time for an echo to return and the direction from which it returns, as by radar or sonar.

* * *

"Annie, are you going to tell me where exactly you're taking me?" Auggie whined from the passenger seat of her car. They'd already been on the road for thirty minutes and he was getting anxious. Not to mention a little bored.

"Nope," was her simple reply.

Auggie snorted and lifted a hand to scratch at the strip of fabric over his eyes. "And you do realise that blindfolding the blind guy is completely redundant, right?"

"I know," Annie said and he could actually hear her smiling. "That was just fun. Now leave it alone."

"Who knew you were such a dirty girl, Miss Walker," he teased with a smirk. He winced as she hit him in the chest. "Wait, are you taking me out into the middle of nowhere to execute me?"

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

"Oh that was just bad," Auggie said, laughing. "You should be embarrassed for even using that joke." He could hear her quiet laughter from his left and he leaned his head back against the headrest. "Alright, fine, wake me up when we're there."

As soon as he'd said it, the car began to slow. "We're here," Annie said brightly.

"That was convenient," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Where is _Here_? Can I take this stupid thing off yet? It itches."

"Not yet," Annie said, reaching over and batting his hand away from his eyes. "Patience, grasshopper." Despite himself, Auggie smiled at her remark. And he had to admit that he was getting pretty curious to find out just where his best friend had blindfolded and kidnapped him off to early on a Sunday morning.

The car finally stopped and Annie came around the car to lead him. They were outdoors, Auggie could tell that much, and there weren't any people near them that he could hear. She walked him in silence for a few minutes, and then she stopped. "Annie, I feel ridiculous with this thing on my head," he said pointedly and heard her chuckling.

"Alright, fine, come here," she said and he felt her fingers fumbling with the knot at the back of his head.

When the scrap of fabric fell away, he gasped dramatically. "Oh my God, I can see again."

Annie smacked him in the back of the head. "Don't be a smart ass or I'll just take you home," she threatened playfully.

"Speaking of which, where is this place that isn't home?" he asked but before she could respond the sound of approaching footsteps in the dirt and gravel interrupted.

"Lil' Annie Oakley!" a male voice, a hoarse tenor, greeted cheerfully. Auggie bit back a laugh at the nickname and received an elbow in the ribs. "Got everything set up for you around back. This must be the friend you were telling me about."

"Kevin, this is Auggie," Annie said. "Aug, this is Kevin McDonnell."

"Nice to meet you," Auggie said uncertainly, extending a hand. The hand that grasped his was rough and calloused, with well-hardened skin in the palms. "Okay Annie, I know I'm a genius, but giving me a guy's name really doesn't tell me where the hell we are."

He could hear the other two laughing and then Kevin said, "You got this, Oaks? Alright, I'll be round in the shed if ya need me." The sound of heavy footsteps crunched away across gravel.

Annie wrapped her hand around Auggie's elbow and started steering him forward. "Kevin is an old Army buddy of my dad's," she explained as they walked after Kevin's retreating steps. "When he retired, he settled down and opened a firing range. I called in a favour with him so we could have the place for the afternoon."

Auggie stopped short, quite positive that his mouth was gaping but too confused to bother with it. "A firing range?" he finally asked in awe. "You brought the blind guy to a _shooting range_?"

"Well, yeah," Annie said and he could hear the hesitancy that entered her voice, the way her hand tightened anxiously around his elbow. "I just thought - the other day we were talking about how kick-ass blind spies are and that Joan wouldn't let you handle a gun. I just thought maybe you'd want to try it. Maybe."

For a long second Auggie could only stare in his best friend's direction, trying to process what exactly was going on. Sure, he'd made jokes about being a great shot, but he had never expected… And then his face split into a huge grin and he used the hand on his arm to pull her into a hug. "You are so cool," he said enthusiastically and he felt Annie relax.

"I try," she said and he could hear the quiet embarrassment that was hidden beneath her tone. He let her lead him around the field until she stopped and placed his hand on a small table. "Alright, soldier boy, ready to take down those terrorists?" she asked playfully and he saluted in response. She took his hand and he felt her place the once familiar weight of a handgun into his palm. "I'm going to assume you still know how to work one of these."

"Just point and click, right?" he asked with an innocent smirk. "Just like the computers back home."

"The fact that you just said that with a straight face makes me really regret this idea," Annie informed him but she was laughing and he knew she was only kidding.

"So how exactly is this going to work?" Auggie asked. Now that he actually had a gun in his hand, he was starting to wonder what in the hell they were doing. She had just placed a firearm in the hands of a man that couldn't see a thing, let alone what he was aiming at. Or any of the things he should definitely avoid aiming at, like the woman next to him.

"Kev and I put some things together, an experiment of sorts," Annie explained. "And if that doesn't work, well, then I'll do the pointing and you can do the clicking. But let's try this first and see how it works." He heard a small metallic clinking noise, and then there was a high pitched beeping from some distance to his right. Auggie turned towards it curiously.

"What's that?"

"Your target," Annie said and he could hear pride in her voice, presumably at her idea. "I figured with your hearing, you'd have a pretty decent chance of pinpointing the sound. I'll just point you in the general direction so you don't shoot me or the car, and then instead of sighting your target, you can just hear it. Think it'll work?"

Auggie focused on the sound, narrowing his eyes in concentration, and rotated his body until he was facing the noise as best as he could figure. At his side Annie made a quiet noise of affirmation. "I think this could definitely work," he agreed with a smile. They made a few more quick adjustments, Annie slid a pair of protective lenses over his eyes – despite his protest of "What more damage could I possibly do to them?" – and then she gave him the okay.

Taking a deep breath, Auggie fell back into the training that had been ingrained into him years ago. He adjusted his grip on the gun, lifted his arms, and used his ears to target in on the sound. With a hasty prayer under his breath, he pulled the trigger.

There was the explosion of a gunshot that ricocheted up to his shoulders, and just underneath that noise he could hear the sound of shredding cardboard. Annie suddenly doubled over in laughter, and he looked around apprehensively. "How bad did I do?" Auggie asked uncertainly.

It took a minute for Annie to straighten up again, leaning on his arm for support, and then she said, "Trust me, Auggie, that bad guy is not getting up again." He cocked an eyebrow curiously and heard her choke back a new wave of giggles. "You got him in the groin."

Several quick thoughts chased themselves through his head. First was surprise that he'd even hit the target, then excitement, and then just outright amusement. "That's totally what I was aiming for," he said with a smirk, and Annie doubled over laughing again. "Do I get to go again? I think I can do better this time."

Annie murmured a yes and then he could hear her scrambling with more things that made metallic clicks. The remotes for the beeping things, he reasoned. The one he'd been aiming for silenced, and then another one started up, several yards to the right. "Go ahead," Annie said and he swivelled to face it, more confidently this time. "Up a bit," Annie whispered and he twitched his arms upward a fraction of an inch. Then he breathed in, out, and pulled the trigger.

This time the sound of the target was louder as the bullet tore through it, and Annie actually jumped in her excitement. "You did it," she said and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. "Right in the torso this time." Auggie laughed exuberantly and reached one of his arms around behind himself to return her awkward hug.

They passed another hour of this, Annie sending him through a series of targets and reacting earnestly every time he succeeded. There were a few misses, but by the time that he had finished out the second clip for the gun, he had gotten good enough at targeting that he had actually hit quite a few of the beepers and shattered them. A sense of fun and euphoria had taken over him, Annie's enthusiasm more than contagious enough, and he couldn't stop grinning when Kevin complimented him as they packed away the gun.

"Auggie, that was amazing," Annie was saying as she walked him back to her car. "You are so amazing."

Auggie abruptly stopped and pulled her toward him again. This time he placed a tender kiss on her forehead and then wreathed her in his arms. "Thank you," he said into her hair and he felt her arms tighten around him in acknowledgement. When she pulled back he said, "You are most certainly the best friend I could ever ask for."

There was a quiet moment as Annie absorbed this, and then she hip-checked him playfully. "Same to you," she said and there was sincerity beneath the joke.

Beaming, Auggie took her arm again. "C'mon, Annie Oakley," he said affectionately. "After all you did, dinner is most definitely on me tonight."


	34. Agog

**Agog**: (adj.) Full of excitement or interest; in eager desire; eager, keen.

* * *

Annie chewed at the end of her pen, peering over the top of her newspaper at her husband. Auggie was sitting at the other end of the couch, her legs stretched lazily across his lap with the book he was reading propped against her ankles. He looked so serene and content, one hand drifting across the page and the other tracing idle designs on her calf. She hated to destroy the peaceful moment, but she needed to tell him. But how?

Ruffling the newspaper, she looked down at the half-finished crossword and smiled. "Auggie, I'm stuck on this word," she said. He turned his head in her direction, looking surprised.

"You, stuck on a crossword puzzle?" he asked, smirking. "Never thought I'd see the day. You know, metaphorically." Annie laughed quietly and he slipped a bookmark into his book before setting it aside. "Alright, I'll give it a shot. What's the clue?"

"Six letters," Annie said, slowly and deliberate. "Starts with an F, and the fourth letter is an H. The clue is, 'what you'll be in seven months.'"

Auggie frowned in confusion. "What kind of clue is that?" he muttered. "'What you'll be in seven months?' Starts with an F. What the - ?" He suddenly froze and Annie watched his expression carefully.

His hand stilled on her leg. His eyes widened. Then slowly his lips parted into an awed O shape. Comprehension lit in his eyes and brightened his face, and the smallest of grins crept over his lips. Tentatively, he asked, "Father?"

Annie pretended to consult the paper, Auggie tense and expectant next to her, and then she said, "You know, that actually fits."

"Annie, are you – are we –" Auggie seemed incapable of forming a complete sentence as he leaned closer to her, his hand crawling up her leg in search of her hand.

"Yes," she answered and placed her hand on his.

An ecstatic grin broke out on Auggie's face. His hands found her waist and he pulled her into his lap. Grabbing her face, he crushed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. By the time they broke apart both of their heads were spinning. He leaned his forehead against hers, still smiling brilliantly.

"Annie, this is –" he trailed off again, his eyes casting around as if he was searching for the right word. "We're having a baby."

Annie smiled and brushed her hand along his cheek. "We're having a baby," she echoed.

Auggie laughed and brought her in for another kiss. This time when it ended they were laying across the sofa, wrapped up in each other and drinking in the comfort of their proximity. Annie tucked herself in closer to his body as she felt the gentle tug of sleep pulling her under.

She drifted off with their intertwined hands splayed on her stomach.


	35. Diaphanous

**Diaphanous**: (adj.) Of such fine texture as to allow light to pass through; translucent or transparent; vague; insubstantial.

* * *

"Dude, did you see those legs? She is looking _fine_ today."

"I wish she'd walk past more often. So much nicer to watch than these data entries."

"And whatever that new lipstick she's wearing is, that's gotta be my new favourite colour. Who knew a mouth could look that sexy?"

"Wonder what the occasion is? Maybe Wilcox is finally gonna get laid."

Auggie frowned and rolled his eyes at the muttered conversation and chuckles coming from the next room over. The two men had been going on in this vein for the last twenty minutes. Normally it wouldn't have bothered him; he'd just put on his trusty headphones and get back to work. But today, he was not at all in the mood.

"Greg, Barber," he snapped, leaning back in his chair so he could yell through the opened doorway leading to the other tech room. "Any chance you two are actually going to do your jobs today?"

The other two men grumbled darkly, a few choice words that Auggie assumed he wasn't supposed to hear directed at him, but a few seconds later the clicking of keys told him they'd done as told. He exhaled heavily and pulled himself back to his desk, propping an elbow on the desktop and resting his forehead in his palm. At this rate he'd have burnt through his entire supply of aspirins by the end of his shift, and have to start on his bottle of Patròn to make up the difference.

It had been a rough night. During a normally pleasant evening with Annie at the Tavern, a particularly inebriated man had decided that she was his type. After Annie had unsuccessfully talked him off, Auggie had stepped in to get rid of him. It resulted in a battle of words – slurred on the one side, but still equally bitter – and culminated in the man's argument that Annie needed to be out with a man who could appreciate her beauty. Annie had broken Captain Moronic's nose for the comment and they'd promptly left.

Unfortunately, that night as he lay in bed, Auggie's mind had refused to let him forget what the man had said to him. '_Do you even know how sexy this chick is?_' Sure, he knew that his best friend was beautiful. He only had to spend five minutes in her presence to hear the way that other men fell silent as she walked by and then immediately began whispering to their friends behind her back. He'd been around her to hear a fair share of wolf-whistles and lewd comments.

But the one simple fact remained: He had honestly never _seen_ her.

Over the course of their friendship, he'd assembled a pretty general idea of what she looked like. He could tell how tall she was, with and without her favourite Louboutins. He could guess the way she held herself by the sound of her footsteps, the weight and speed and whether there was any bounce in them or an added weight of a hard day. From their various sparring sessions and the friendly hugs, he knew the build of her upper body, the width of her shoulders and curve of her back and sides. With his fingers he had learned the texture of her skin, the basic shape of her face, the rise and fall of her features. By asking questions, he had gotten that the colour of her hair was a golden honey brown (even if his mind had a hard time remembering the exact colour of honey anymore), her lips were pale, dusty rose pink, her eyes were green and brown and gold all blended together and changed with her mood.

Using all of this information, he had put together an image of her in his mind, the picture that came to mind whenever he heard her voice or smelled grapefruit. It was a hazy figure that haunted his dreams and flitted through his thoughts when he couldn't bring himself to focus on his work. But at the end of the day, it wasn't the same. It was blurred and vague and tended to change and morph with his mood or things that he'd picked up and heard around the office. It was like looking at a person through a sheer curtain, softening lines and blending colours and turning them into an indistinct ghost of their true selves.

There was a light tapping against his doorframe and Auggie lifted his head in the general direction, his senses immediately picking up on a familiar scent. "Auggie, you okay?" Annie's voice asked and he could hear concern and worry and curiosity as she took several quick steps to his side.

Instantly, every dark thought in his head was shoved into that back corner he kept reserved for these situations. A cocky smirk replaced his concentrated frown and he leaned back in his chair, achieving a semblance of comfort and casualness. "Dandy," he replied.

She didn't fully believe him, he could tell that much by the tension that was still in the fingers on his forearm, but she knew him well enough to accept it. "Good," she said and squeezed his arm before releasing it and perching herself on the corner of his desk that he kept cleared just for her. "Because I am horribly bored, have no plans tonight, and don't yet feel sufficiently relaxed from Prague after last night got cut short. So I was thinking, we should do something tonight. Maybe a night-in; Thai and beers and a Bond marathon?"

"That sounds fantastic," he said, completely honestly now, and he could actually hear the smile she shot at him. He wished more than ever that he could see it. "Pick me up when you finish your paperwork?"

"Alright, but I'm driving," Annie said and he grinned. She touched his shoulder before he heard the gentle _click-clack_ of her heels moving away, slightly lighter than when she'd walked in.

"Oh Annie," he said abruptly and she paused in the doorway. He smiled in her direction and said, "By the way, you look amazing today. New dress, right?"

"Yeah, I just got it last week," Annie said, obviously surprised. "How did you know?"

"I haven't been able to get my guys to focus on their work all morning," he answered and jerked his head to gesture back at the second room. "You're all the rage down here, darlin'."

He heard the shuffle of her feet and knew she was embarrassed. She was probably blushing, pink spreading across the apples of her cheeks, and her smile would be smaller, modest. "Thanks," she said. "I figured you'd like it; I know red's your favourite colour."

This little fact startled Auggie for a second, but he recovered quickly. "Especially on you," he retorted playfully and winked. She laughed, bright and carefree, and then with one more promise to come by and steal him as soon as she was finished with her work she left.

Auggie reclined in his chair, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes, a de-stressing habit he'd never quite broken the habit of. There was nobody in the world quite like Annie, that was for sure. Only she would buy a dress because it was the blind guy's favourite colour. He laughed a little under his breath and then turned his focus to his computer readout.

He couldn't see his best friend, but she seemed to think he could and that would just have to be good enough for them both.


	36. Frabjous

**Frabjous**: (adj.) Wonderful, elegant, superb, or delicious.

* * *

Annie paused in front of the metal door and smoothed down the front of her dress for the fourth time since she'd climbed out of her car a minute and a half ago. She had no idea what exactly was going on, just that her best friend was clearly up to something judging by the slightly cryptic phone call she'd received early that day. Still, she'd always trusted him so she did as he asked and was now standing outside his apartment at three minutes shy of seven o'clock.

Feeling composed, if extremely confused and curious, she knocked at the door. It took a second before she heard the sound of approaching footsteps, the scrape of the lock twisting, and then the door slid open. Annie smiled at the sight of her best friend filling the doorframe, dressed in a black button-down and jeans that she had to admit looked really nice on him.

"Miss Walker," he greeted playfully without pre-empting.

"Mister Anderson," she replied and his grin widened. "So are you going to tell me what exactly is going on now?"

Auggie smiled and nodded. "Well, you know how I promised that after tricking you into that raucous dinner with my family, that I would repay you with a quiet, simple dinner?" He stepped to the side, allowing her entrance to his apartment and simultaneously revealing what awaited her inside. At his kitchen island, a beautiful dinner was set out, complete with glasses of red wine and a single, tapered candle flickering in the middle of it all.

Gaping in awe, Annie stepped in and completely took in the meal. It was a delicious smelling Italian dish, and a basket of still-steaming breadsticks was waiting between the plates. Auggie pulled a small remote from his pocket and when he pressed it the sounds of Mingus began piping from the stereo.

"I hope you like alfredo," he said with a soft smirk, extending a hand slightly as he walked in the direction he'd last heard her footsteps, searching for her.

Annie took his hand and squeezed it before resting it in her elbow. "It's my favourite," she said, knowing that he was well aware of the fact already. She led him to the counter, where he held the back of the swivelling stool for her as she climbed up into it, and then he took the seat beside her.

They slipped into a comforting familiarity as they ate, teasing and bantering and playfully flirting like they did any time they were together. The dinner tasted even better than it smelled, and Annie devoured it eagerly. Neither of them even cared to comment on the casual intimacy when their feet brushed beneath the counter or when his hand covered hers over the glass as he refilled her wine, the gestures too common between them to merit reaction.

When they'd both finished, Annie insisted on helping Auggie clean up – he had argued that she was the guest and even though he didn't remember ever surrendering, he still found himself accepting dripping dishes to dry with the towel in his hand. With the chore finished, the remainder of the pasta in a plastic container in the fridge, and both of their wine glasses filled for the third or fourth time (Annie'd lost the exact count), they relocated to the couch where they sat in companionable quiet and listened to the jazz music.

"So what'd you think?" Auggie asked abruptly after a few minutes. "Did it make up for my little stunt? I mean, I know it wasn't much, but…" He trailed off, something hesitant in his normally confident grin while he waited for her response.

Leaning over, Annie kissed his cheek, the wine addling her thoughts and making her linger for longer than was probably appropriate. "It was perfect," she said sincerely. Something in the back of her mind was telling her that she was still unnecessarily close, definitely intruding on his personal space, but she couldn't bring herself to pull back.

There was a tense, poignant moment, the air thrumming with possibility and promise, and then –

"If I didn't know better, Miss Annie, I'd think you were trying to seduce me," Auggie joked. He turned to face her, putting their noses only centimetres apart so she could feel his wine-and-fettuccini scented breath ghosting over her face. Even though he'd laughed as he said it, that tension hadn't faded completely and there was something careful and calculating in his dark eyes as they stared, unknowingly, right into her own.

Annie debated for a second, weighing her options. This would be a huge risk, that much she knew for sure. It was a gamble, and Lord knew she wasn't very good at gambling, but this just felt so right. Being close to Auggie had always felt right. This night had been absolutely beautiful, and it was the possibility of more nights like this to come that pushed the words from her mouth. "And what if you don't know better?"

She saw the switch in Auggie's eyes, saw the words click into place and watched as the playful emotion faded into something more – _real_. "Do I?" he asked uncertainly, hopefully.

In response, Annie closed the distance between them and pressed her lips against his. Auggie stiffened in surprise, and then a split second later he responded enthusiastically. It felt to Annie like everything else in the world had melted into an indistinct blur, leaving Auggie as the only thing in her world that still completely existed. In an instant all of the walls between them crumbled, months of guarded fondness and innocent affections and repressed feelings rushing out over them and dragged them under.

Much later that night, Annie nuzzled her face into the warmth of the bare chest beneath her and felt an arm draw more securely around her shoulders even though the owner had fallen asleep a half hour ago. Her mind felt fuzzy in the most wonderful ways, but there was one thing she was certain of:

This night had been perfection.


	37. Hobbledehoy

**Hobbledehoy**: (n.) An awkward, gawky young fellow.

* * *

"Alright, alright everyone, simmer down." Annie looked up at the man standing in the centre of the room, surrounded by a large cluster of about twenty people that were crammed together on the furniture and even sprawled out across the floor so everyone could find a seat. There was a pretty sizeable variety, but more than half of them had nearly identical dark hair and eyes that placed them as Andersons. Annie was squished in between Auggie and his younger sister, Abigail, the only Anderson sibling that was younger than him.

"So everyone knows the rules, right?" the man in the middle of the room, Auggie's oldest brother, Alan Junior – who apparently only answered to AJ – said. "Each Anderson, and their significant other, takes a shot whenever they are involved in a scuffle in the video. Two shots if it's a fight involving Adam."

As everyone murmured their agreements, Annie couldn't help but think that this was the strangest funeral she had ever been to. When she had offered to go with Auggie to his next oldest brother's funeral, he had warned her that the Andersons did things a little differently. Said that they didn't mourn over death, but instead celebrated life. She hadn't really expected this though. The actual funeral had been fairly normal. But now the entire family was armed with shot glasses and bottles of whiskey were sprinkled between them all, and they were crowded around the large television preparing to play a drinking game while watching home movies.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want," Auggie said to her in a low voice, looking uneasy.

"It's fine," Annie assured him, nudging his shoulder with hers. "How bad can it be?"

Auggie snorted but he was smiling. "I'm the youngest brother," he said like that was an answer. "We'll both be under the table in the first five minutes of footage."

AJ had started the video and he perched himself on the arm of the couch next to his wife. Annie watched the television as a grainy image blinked into life, showing a living room, the same one they were currently crammed into, only the furniture was old and tacky, and the white numbers in the bottom corner of the screen dated the video back to December 1984. The seven Anderson children were standing there, little Abigail no more than two years old, all of them bundled up in heavy winter clothes.

"Alright everyone," a motherly voice said from somewhere behind the camera, "wave to the camera."

All seven children on the screen began waving wildly, grinning from beneath their caps and behind knitted scarves. The only way Annie could tell them apart was by their sizes, although this was still guesswork because the three middle boys were nearly the same size. At a word from their mother, the children began trooping toward the front door, talking excitedly about their snow day. One boy abruptly shoved another – the smallest one, not only in age but in stature too since he was built differently than the older boys – and in retaliation the youngest boy whirled around and shoved the other back.

"Ha, Auggie gets first shot!" Anthony, second oldest boy, crowed and the others laughed. "And that's Adam he's fighting with."

"We are off to a lovely start, my dear," Auggie intoned to Annie, grinning. Then both of them poured their first shots, swallowed them, and then refilled and did it again. Annie blinked a little in response to the burning in her throat, and next to her Auggie shook his head like he was trying to get water out of his ears. "Damn, that's some good whiskey," he remarked, making his family laugh. "Which of us makes good enough money to afford this stuff?"

The rest of the video continued on in much of the same way. It turned out that the two Anderson girls, Abigail and the oldest child April, got into fights just as often as any of the boys. By the time the video concluded with Anthony's eighth birthday party, everyone in the room had consumed at least five shots, some of them even more.

Stumbling slightly on his way to the video cabinet, AJ selected another one at random and popped it into the ancient VCR. This video opened up in the backyard, and the date at the bottom of the screen read June 1996. There were only the four youngest kids present in this video, all of them now teenagers. When Annie's eyes found the face she'd been searching for, she let out a very loud laugh before she could stop herself.

"What is it?" Auggie asked, but then on the video Adam – the Anderson sibling that wasn't sitting in the present day living room with them – began shouting something about his car and Auggie looked horrified. "Oh God, no, AJ did you have to pick _this _one?" he asked in alarm.

"I didn't choose it on purpose," AJ replied, trying not to fall off the arm of the couch as he laughed at the scene and his brother's reaction. "I just grabbed one at random." The rest of the family had dissolved into laughter as Annie turned to look at her best friend.

"Auggie, is that really you?" she asked, comparing the image on the screen to the man sitting next to her. The Auggie on the television – she did a quick calculation and realised he would've been fifteen at that point in time – was even narrower than in the present. Instead of smooth and lean, he was long and lanky, looking a bit like someone who'd been stretched out. His limbs seemed too long for his body and his clothes – a Metallica tee-shirt and acid washed jeans – hung oddly on his thin frame. The curly hair on his head was longer, hanging in what looked vaguely like a mullet, and a pair of Coke bottle glasses were perched on his nose.

"Possibly," he said evasively. "Unless it is the video I think, then no, that is definitely _not _me."

"It's totally him," Abigail chipped in brightly.

"Yeah, you can tell by the ears," Anthony said, causing all of the other siblings to try and stifle their laughter. "No one else on earth has ears that big."

"Oh shove it," Auggie said, one hand coming up to touch one of his ears self-consciously as a blush spread across his cheeks.

"Besides, Augs always has been the nerd of the family," Andrew, the middle child, said with a shrug. The discussion didn't get any further than that, cause at that moment teenage Abigail had thrown herself at Adam and everyone's focus turned to the shots she was taking.

Annie noticed that Auggie still seemed a little tense at her side, fingering the edge of his shot glass and not joining in on the teasing. His neck and ears were bright pink. She bumped him with her shoulder, and he cracked a small smile. "So my teenage years were a little awkward," he admitted, trying to sound offhand. "I eventually grew into my limbs."

"You wore glasses," Annie commented, and it brought a real smile to Auggie's face.

"Yeah, until I –" he faltered for a second, and she saw his eyes flick around like he was checking to be sure no one was paying them attention, "until I moved to DC," he amended pointedly. "That's when I invested in contact lenses. I think I still have my old glasses stashed somewhere in my apartment, not that they do me much good anymore."

Annie looked up at the television again, and felt a soft smile cross her face. "If it makes you feel better, in high school I had braces," she said and he laughed. "And you know, I think you were actually kinda cute."

"Were?" Auggie asked, raising an eyebrow. Annie chuckled and elbowed him in the side before relaxing her weight against his shoulder. He didn't even bat an eye, just slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her in more comfortably. They sat quietly, listening to the present day Andersons bickering around them and Adam Anderson arguing with the teenaged Auggie on the screen.

"We never agreed on anything," Auggie said at length, a faraway look on his face. "Adam and I, I mean. We were only sixteen months apart, the closest in age of any of us, but there wasn't a single discussion in existence that we would stand on the same side of. But he was the first person to show up at the hospital after my accident and he was there every day until I was released. And even there, he was the first one to not treat me any different. The first thing he said to me when I woke up was, 'Welcome back, Jackass.'" Annie saw the moisture building in his eyes even as he chuckled quietly and she reached across him to find his hand, squeezing his fingers reassuringly. He returned the pressure with a smile.

"I'm going to miss that crazy bastard," he said and drew his arm more securely around her shoulders. "Thanks for coming with me, Annie. I just – I really didn't think I could face this alone." Annie couldn't think of a good verbal response to that, so she simply threaded her fingers in his and nodded against his shoulder. It was only a few seconds later that the Adam on the television had jumped on Auggie from behind, making them both tumble to the ground as they struggled to get the upper hand.

"That's us again," Annie said with a laugh, grabbing the nearest bottle of whiskey and filling both of their glasses. When they'd downed them and she'd refilled them, she lifted hers slightly and said, "To Adam."

All around the room, the other Andersons scrambled to fill their glasses and they raised them as well, echoing her toast. Auggie was the last one and, tears in his eyes and a smile on his face, he took Annie's hand in his and lifted his glass. "To Adam."


	38. Aeon

**Aeon**: (n.) In Gnosticism, one of a class of powers or beings conceived as emanating from the Supreme Being and performing various functions in the operations of the universe.

* * *

Her world had fallen apart. She couldn't comprehend much more than that. Her mind had gone into an explosive overload, until she was utterly and completely taken under all of the information and her brain had simply shut down. Everything had disappeared; not into light or into darkness, just _gone_.

It was the warmth she became aware of first. It was all around her, completely encompassing her body. Not an overwhelming heat, but soft and comfortable and calming. It was firmly wrapped around her, giving her little room to move even if she had wanted to, and it felt like its sole purpose in existence was to keep her held in place. Held together. To stop any more little pieces of her from slipping away into nothingness.

Awareness of her own body came next. She was sore, everywhere. It felt like she had gone through four triathlons and then been in an explosion, just for good measure. Her eyes, itching and burning, refused to open. Her body was curled in on itself, protectively, until she was tangled in a tight little ball in the midst of her cocoon of warmth. Her hands – shaking, she distantly noticed – were clenched around something, hard and soft and oh so warm, like that object was the only thing keeping her from drowning in a sea of her own body.

And it wasn't just her body that felt beaten and broken. It was inside too. Her lungs were like fire, spasming fire. Her stomach seemed to have twisted up into convoluted little knots, pouring its nauseating acids out through her body. Her brain felt like it had been crushed, vacuum sealed inside a container far too small, one edged in piercing spikes that tore at the inside of her skull and tried to kill her from the inside. And her heart, it felt like a hole had been blasted straight through her chest; a burning, searing, aching, agonising hole that left no room for anything but pain in its wake.

It was the voice that finally broke through the fog. Lost in the overpowering madness of her tangled body and tortured soul, she began to register a sound. Low and soothing, distant but growing ever closer the longer she focused on it. She couldn't place the noise at that moment, only that it made her feel good. Safe. She could feel the way it hummed against her body, through the warmth that surrounded her, and knew that it must belong to her protective shield. Several seconds – or was it hours, she couldn't be sure – later she came to the conclusion that it was a voice. A deep, soft, comforting voice that was luring her back from the world where nothing existed any longer.

Her name was the first word that she fully understood. For a long time she had just sat in her safe little haven and listened to the sound of the beautiful voice, washing over her and filling her with more warmth and numbing the aches. And then she heard it. Annie. That was her name, wasn't it? Yes, now that she thought about it, she was sure that name held significance to her. The voice had whispered it, gently, caringly. Not pleading or plaintive or even anxious, just calm. Understanding. Compassionate. Loving.

The words dissolved back into the hum, indistinct to her addled brain but still so comforting. It was some stretch of time later before she heard her name again, this time accompanied by other snatches of words. "It's okay, Annie… You're safe… I'm here… Just let it out…"

And let it out she did. Because she hurt, damn it. The burn in her eyes redoubled as she was claimed by another wave of tears. This was agony. She wanted nothing more than to retreat back into the blissful ignorance, the jaded denial that had been her life for the last few days. Had it been only days? That nothingness had seemed so unending, it felt like she must have lived there for years. But no, it had been only days since blood had stained her hands and light had left blue eyes.

She had convinced herself that she had accepted the truth, had admitted that her eyes had seen what they had seen and that that was all she needed. The next few days had been a blur of forced smiles and awkward pauses and a jumpiness that had caused her fair share of small accidents. But she had been indifferent, and it had been painless and safe in there.

Then he'd come to her. Confronted her, actually. It had started out gentle, coaxing, reasoning, but it had quickly escalated to anger. Anger that was masking the real emotion; fear. She had seen it in his gaze, in the flexed skin of his knuckles at his side. He was frightened even as he raised his voice, told her that she was being stupid and that pretending nothing was wrong would only get her killed. That she couldn't keep doing this, to herself and to him. That he couldn't lose her. Wouldn't stand by and let it happen. Not like this.

She had screamed, she remembered that much. The raw feeling in her throat was reminder enough of that part. She had screamed and raged and told him how he didn't know anything about it, and how it wasn't any of his business. She had thrown herself at him, pummelling his chest with her hands weakly, without conviction, and then she had collapsed into the security of his arms and her emotional maelstrom had dragged her under into that place of Gone.

And now, as her tears began to slowly fade and her breathing became less sporadic, she could distinguish the feelings more surely. The strong arms wrapped around her coiled body, the lap that she was settled into and the pressure of a cheek against the back of her head, the origin of the voice that was still humming to her gently, making soft shushing sounds. He was safety. He was comfort. He was peace. He was trust. He was her guardian angel. He was her best friend. He was her Auggie.

So she slipped back into the shell of her protection, knowing that until the moment she recovered, there would always be a shield to keep her warm and safe from the darkness.


	39. Rigmarole

**Rigmarole**: (n.) An elaborate or complicated procedure.

* * *

"…and then once that's through, you'll head two blocks north to the Granite Hotel. There will be a taxi waiting, driven by Agent Jarvis. You get in, ask him to take you to the Hummingbird. He'll take you there, and when you get out simply leave the case in the backseat, he'll make sure it gets back to Langley. You go into the bar, find the Hispanic woman sitting in the back of the room. That's Agent Martinez. Exchange the coded communication with her, and then she'll escort you out to her car and bring you back here. Got that all?"

Annie stared in awe at Auggie, who was smiling as he held out her earpiece to her after having just relayed about fifteen minutes worth of procedure to her. "You're kidding," she said flatly.

"I never kid, you know that," Auggie replied with a small smirk. "And unfortunately in this situation, I'm actually not kidding. That's the plan."

"What happened to _simple _brush pass?" Annie asked, finally accepting the earpiece from him and fitting it into place. "That has to be the most complicated pass I've ever heard."

"Well you are an unusual agent, Miss Walker," Auggie informed her sagely, although his eyes were twinkling. "See every time we send you on a simple pass, things get blown up. So we figured maybe if we try to make things complicated to begin with then there's less risk of explosions."

"You're kidding," Annie repeated.

Auggie laughed this time, leaning back in his chair. "Actually that time, yes," he admitted. "It just so happens this is some very important intel and Joan wants to make sure that we don't run the risk of things going south. The more precise the instructions, the less wiggle room where things can get messed up. For your safety as much as anything else."

Annie sighed and leaned against the edge of Auggie's desk. "It'd be nice if agencies could just exchange these things face-to-face instead of having to do all this cloak-and-dagger nonsense," she mused.

"Yeah, but then we'd be out of a job," Auggie pointed out and Annie was forced to nod in agreement. "Alright Annie dearest, your ride should be around front by now. You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Annie said and straightened up again. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Wish me luck."

"Not that you need it," Auggie said, reaching up to squeeze her fingers and flashing her a charming smile, "but good luck. I'll be in your ear, all the way home this time. Promise."

Annie gripped his shoulder affectionately, trying to convey all of her gratitude through the contact, and then turned and walked out of his office. She only hoped that this logic of complication worked. She was really getting tired of having to buy new clothes to replace the ones with bullet holes in them.


	40. Efface

**Efface**: (v.) To cause to disappear by rubbing out, striking out, etc.; to erase; to render illegible or indiscernible.

* * *

Auggie walked a now familiar path toward the courtyard, grateful for the late hour that meant there were few people still wandering the halls. The moment he'd realised the desk was empty, he'd known where to find her. So it didn't surprise him when he pushed open the door and caught the sounds of running water and the faint smell of grapefruit.

He heard her shifting on the bench, the rustle of fabric against the seat, as he crossed over to sit down beside her, but she made no other indication of having noticed his approach. He left her to her quiet as he turned off his cane and slipped it into his pocket before resting his elbows on his knees and simply listening to the ambient noises of the water feature in the middle of the courtyard and Annie's slightly unsteady breathing.

"Maggie's going to be okay," he said idly when he figured out that she obviously wasn't going to broach the topic. "It was just a little sprain. Turner's already got the papers for her relocation started, so she should be ready to settle in the next few days." Annie made a small noise that he assumed was supposed to be assent, but that was it and he could tell she was thinking so much more. "She'll be safe now, Annie. Her new identity will be untraceable. She can have a whole new life without worrying about these people coming after her."

"With the memory of her family trying to kill her," Annie interjected.

Auggie sighed and tilted his head in the direction of her voice. "It was a delicate situation, you did what you could and you kept her alive," he said evenly. "She told them to send you her thanks. You saved her life."

"I put a bullet in the head of her seventeen year old nephew," she said and he caught the crack in her voice, the underlying thickness that betrayed the emotions she was trying to hide from him. "He was just a kid, Auggie, and I killed him."

"He was a kid with a gun and the determination to use it," he argued, his hand sliding sideways across the bench until he found her arm and squeezed it comfortingly.

"You didn't have to see it, watch the way he died and see that innocent little kid that was left behind when he hit the ground." Her voice was distinctly uneven now and he could feel her shuddering under his hand.

"You think I haven't killed people before?" Auggie asked lightly, and he heard the shift of fabric as she turned to look at him. "I spent six months in Iraq. Over there, you see enemy insurgents as young as ten years old. I'd only been there a month when we got caught up in a village attack. I killed eleven people that day. When it was all over and we were helping with the clean up, I found one of the bodies I'd shot. A little boy, probably fifteen, armed to the teeth and carrying a picture of his family in the pocket of his vest, with three big old bullet holes in his chest."

He paused, trying to chase the images – unfortunately so much clearer than many of his memories – that had flared in his mind at the tale. "I know what it's like, Annie. It's not something you forget very fast, and it'll wake you up in the middle of the night for weeks. But at the end of the day, you've got to remember the other details too. He wasn't just a kid. He was a kid that was going to kill someone that you were enlisted to protect. You did your job, you saved someone's life, and you took out the bad guys. If you think about it too much more than that then you're going to kill yourself with guilt."

Annie sighed heavily, but a second later he felt her sliding closer to him on the bench. Her shoulder nudged against his as she settled herself into place, and he knew that she was drawing comfort from the bit of physical contact. It was something she probably didn't even consciously realise she did but he could always pick up on it. "It would be nice if we could just forget those sort of things," she said wistfully. "Just erase them from our memories. It'd make all of this so much easier."

"I wouldn't do it," Auggie said. Annie stiffened and he felt her shoulder pull away from his as she twisted to look at him in what he guessed was surprise. "It's not that I like seeing that boy in my head all the time, but it serves a good purpose too. If I could just forget about all of the morally uncertain things I've done, I wouldn't know guilt or compassion or mercy or sympathy. I could just keep doing those sort of things without any sort of consequences for it. Feeling regret and guilt and uncertainty, that's what keeps me human. It's what keeps us all human."

The shoulder met his again and this time he felt a head join it, her hair falling along his collarbone in ghostly touches. She exhaled deeply, her muscles uncoiling against him as she did, and he caught a distinct blend of grapefruit and his own cologne. It was a very nice mix.

"How does it feel to be right all the time?" she asked him, but he could tell she was smiling and it made one of his own arrive.

"Pretty damn good," he said unashamedly, and she let out a soft laugh. "And being your all-knowing best friend, I know that the perfect remedy for a completely shitty work day is a couple of good beers enjoyed in the company of an attractive, charming, intelligent man."

"Hmm, know where I can find one of those?" Annie asked.

Auggie feigned offence, shrugging her off of his shoulder and pouting. "Oh that just hurts," he said while she laughed. "You wound me, Annie Walker."

He felt her stand up, and then her hand closed around his and tugged, making him stand as well. "Alright then, Mr. Perfect, let's treat our injuries with those beers," she said, sliding her arm through his. He smirked and let her lead him back out of the courtyard, feeling a comfortable warmth in his stomach as she placed her other hand on his arm as well and leaned her head against his bicep.

No, he would never erase a single bad memory in his life so long as he got to remember the little moments like this one.


	41. Confiscable

**Confiscable**: (adj.) Liable to be taken by an authorised party.

* * *

Annie made a noise of protest as the bottle she was reaching for was suddenly pulled away and she glared at the thief. For his part, Auggie looked entirely unconcerned as he deposited the bottle in his lap and continued to sip at his glass, even though she knew he could feel her glare. "Auggie," she whined. "You said you'd share."

"No, I said I'd share so long as you were nice," Auggie countered easily, flashing a small smile in her direction. "And my pride is really smarting over that poodle curls comment."

"I was just saying your hair is curly," she argued, reaching for the bottle of wine only to have her hand batted away with shocking accuracy.

"You could've just said that then," he pointed out, taking a long draw from his glass and smirking. "God this is good. Definitely worth the extra cost."

"Which is why I want another glass," Annie said when her second attempt at reclaiming the bottle was also deflected. "Aug, please."

"There were rules to this evening," Auggie said with a small shrug. "I said that I would share this wonderful wine with you as long as you would behave yourself. In the event that you couldn't – which you obviously can't – then I had all the right to cut you off. Which means I guess I get to finish this bottle by myself."

Annie sighed in exasperation, but then she scooted closer to her best friend. If he wanted an ego fluffing in exchange for that delicious wine then she supposed she could comply this one time. It didn't help she'd already had three glasses and she was therefore less inclined to be bothered with his lack of humility. Reaching up, she dragged her fingers through his hair and smiled. "Alright, you're right, definitely not at all like a poodle," she said as she fingered an errant curl. "Much softer and silkier. I was wrong, you were right."

Auggie seemed to be thinking intently about something, his gaze even more unfocused than usual as he faced the wall in front of them and his grip tightened around the neck of the wine bottle. And then he stirred and smiled. "Okay, you've flattered your way into my good graces again," he said and held up the bottle. "Another glass, Annie darling?"

Grinning triumphantly, Annie untangled her fingers from his hair and held her glass against the side of the bottle. Auggie poured it carefully, stopping at her whispered, "that's good," and then they both sank back into the couch to enjoy their drinks. It was a companionable quiet, filled with just ambient noises and faint background music as they relaxed together.

"So Annie," Auggie started suddenly, and as she glanced sideways at him she could see the faint tilt at the corner of his mouth that preceded trouble. "What are the odds that you'll keep feeling me up if I threaten to take the wine away again?"

Annie laughed and brushed a hand through his hair before settling herself against his shoulder. "Don't push your luck, Curly."


	42. Lucifugous

**Lucifugous**: (adj.) Shunning the light.

* * *

He was hiding. He wished there was some way to describe it that made him sound less pathetic, but really what else could he call his behaviour? Evasion? Avoidance? It all boiled down to the same thing though, and that was that he was hiding. From her.

It had been two days. Two very long and painful days. Not that he was about to let her know that, of course. He couldn't let her see how much the fact that he hadn't heard her playful banter in over forty-eight hours was affecting him. He was too proud for that. She started it, after all, and he wasn't about to go begging on hand and knee for her to forgive him for something that wasn't his fault anyway. Even if it felt like all of the good things about coming to work every day had been sucked away. No, he wouldn't cave. She had to apologise first, that was the only way he was going to forgive her.

Sure that he had lingered in the breakroom long enough to ensure that she had arrived and gone to her desk, he made his way back to his own office with his cup of now lukewarm coffee. When he entered the office he was surprised to hear the clicking of a keyboard that meant that someone in the adjoining room was busy at work. "You that invested in those codes, Jimmy?" he asked in amusement as he placed his coffee on his desk top.

"No, I'm handling an op," he answered in clipped tones, his focus apparently entirely on his computer screen. Auggie's curiosity piqued. Normally all ops came through him first before being panned off to his other techs, but hadn't heard anything about a new op yet today. "Yeah, I hear you," Jimmy said, clearly not talking to his supervisor anymore. "Alright, Walker, everything's in play. Just follow the plan."

Auggie's chest seized up tightly. _Annie_. Annie was out on an op without him. She was so determined to cut him out that she had requested a different handler for her new mission, leaving him out in the cold. Well fine, if she wanted to play it that way then two could pull this game. He scowled and sat down at his desk, determinedly pulling his headphones over his ears so he couldn't hear the sound of Jimmy doing his job. Annie wasn't any of his business anymore clearly. He set his hand on the keyboard and tried to focus on the set of Russian codes he was supposed to be cracking.

After all, he couldn't exactly blame her for going to someone else for this. They hadn't even exchanged a hello since that argument at his apartment. It only made sense that she'd need a handler that could actually stand to speak to her. He wasn't sure he could be professional enough to be the voice in her ear today. Despite all of his best efforts, Annie Walker sure could mess with his professionalism. And trying to talk her through a mission at the moment, well, he'd either wind up shouting at her again through the headset or he'd break down and plead with her to forgive him for whatever it was he'd done that made her leave and take all of the light out of his already darkened world with her.

No, keeping his distance was definitely the best option right now.

Decidedly, Auggie returned his focus to the computer and threw himself into encryptions and binary. He embroiled his mind completely in the puzzle, letting it fill all of his thoughts until he had no room for anything more than codes and breaks. It was calming and therapeutic and helped him forget about the tension in his shoulders that wouldn't go away.

"Walker!"

The shout made Auggie tug his headphones down around his neck and he was on his feet before he realised he was even moving. Jimmy's voice from the next room sounded panicked and Auggie quickly made his way over, cursing when he stubbed his toe against a desk leg.

"Walker, can you hear me?" Jimmy was practically yelling into the earpiece. Auggie hovered close by, wishing that he could hear what was going on. He didn't even know what kind of mission this was. All he knew was that Annie, his Annie, was in trouble. "Walker,_ do you copy_?"

Auggie gripped the edge of the desk until his fingers were screaming in protest as he waited for any indication that Annie was alright. Jimmy let out a ragged breath. "What's your situation?" he asked and Auggie relaxed just slightly. Annie was answering now. "What? I don't – how did this happen?" Jimmy was fumbling over his computer, sounding frantic. "No, don't," he said sharply. "Stay where you are, there's an extraction team on the way. No – what do you mean? I – I don't know. _Shit_. The file was corrupt, it was a decoy. Damn it, how did I not catch that? Walker, you've gotta get yourself outta there. It was a trap."

"What's going on?" Auggie demanded, but before his tech could answer there was a series of loud noises through the headset that even Auggie could hear from five feet away; several echoing gunshots and then a sharp scream. "Annie," he breathed in horror. Without thinking, he snatched at the headset, ignoring Jimmy's yelp of pain as it was ripped off his ear, and then pressed it to his own. "Annie, can you hear me?"

Nothing.

"Annie, answer me, damn it!" Auggie screamed into the earpiece but it did no good. He wasn't picking up anything but static. "Damn it!" he yelled again, tugging the earpiece out and slamming it down against the desktop with a resonating clink. He stalked back into his office, feeling the need to burn off the panic that was coiled in his chest. He had let her go out there without him, with someone who didn't know her as well, and something had gone wrong. For all he knew, Annie could be dying on the floor of some foreign warehouse building, all the while thinking that her best friend hated her. He let out an agitated noise, something torn between a scream and a growl.

His leg collided with what turned out to be his chair, left in a different location thanks to the haste he'd stood up in before, and the moment he deduced that he collapsed into the seat. It took him a moment to realise that his entire body was trembling and he dropped his head into his hands, trying to steady himself. No reason to jump to conclusions. It wouldn't be the first time Annie had lost a headset during an op. In fact, it seemed to happen pretty often. In a few minutes she would call from her encrypted cell phone and let them all know that she was fine. That it wasn't her piercing scream that he'd heard through the headset, and that she would be coming home to him.

But the phones didn't ring.

He didn't know how long he was sitting there, trying not to succumb to the rising terror in his mind, before the sound of approaching footsteps broke through the haze in his head. The feet stopped just inches away and a second later he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Auggie?" It was Jimmy. Mustering up some sense of composure, Auggie lifted his head and turned it in the direction of his techie's voice. "The extraction team just called in. They're en route to the med station right now, ETA five minutes. They got her."

There were approximately three-and-a-half seconds before the truth sank in, and then Auggie felt his heart leap up into his throat as he looked up toward the voice hopefully. In response, Jimmy just seized his wrist and pressed his laser cane into his palm. He didn't need to be told twice - or once even. Auggie jumped to his feet and began walking the long path around the building to the Langley medical station. He was reckless in his haste, and more than once he stumbled over something he'd missed with his sweeps. At the moment, looking graceful was the least of his concerns.

"Where is she?" Auggie demanded the moment he'd slipped through the doors into the med station. "Annie Walker, is she here yet?"

"She just got here," a female voice answered and he spun to face it. "Do you want me to take you to her?"

"Please," he asked, not even caring about the desperation in his tone. The woman, he assumed she was a nurse, took his arm and led him through a maze of hallways. He was fidgeting with impatience, wanting nothing more than to break into a run while the nurse kept a slow cautious pace. Didn't she realise how much he needed to know Annie was alright?

"Right through this door," the nurse said and placed his hand against a doorknob. He muttered a distracted thank you, twisted the handle, and stepped in.

"Annie?" he asked anxiously, his sightless eyes scouring the room for some indication of his best friend.

"Auggie." The voice that answered was hoarse and pained and tired, but it was also relieved and most undoubtedly Annie.

"Oh thank God," he breathed, turning his laser on again and carefully crossing the room toward the sound of her voice. "How are you?"

"I'll be fine," Annie replied in a forced nonchalance. "I took a bullet to the thigh, but I'll pull through. It missed the artery by a long shot, just skimmed the muscle a bit."

Inside, Auggie was breaking down in relief. She was going to be okay. He wasn't going to lose her. The surge of emotion burned at the backs of his eyes and he blinked it back. Then he said the only thing he could think at the moment. "I'm so sorry."

He felt thin fingers wrap around his own, and Annie whispered, "Me too."

And suddenly the light and warmth had come back to his world again. This time, he wasn't letting it go for anything. He didn't released her hand until she was stitched up and cleared to go home that night.


	43. Satori

**Satori**: (n.) In Zen Buddhism, the state of sudden indescribable intuitive enlightenment.

* * *

He had always thought that these moments were supposed to be dramatic and significant. That this epiphany would come to him in a blaze of light after some glorious declaration that would strike him to his core and electrify his insides. But really, it was such a simple thing that triggered it, that he almost didn't recognise the importance of the thought as it flickered through his mind.

It was a typical Tuesday night, and they were sitting together at a familiar scrubbed table in their usual tavern. There was nothing remarkable about the night. They were both nursing pints of beer and listening to the habitual ambient noises, she was still shifting around restlessly in her chair and wafting him in gentle breezes of grapefruit, and they were talking about unimportant things. She was muttering mutinously about her sister for setting her up on another date, he was making her laugh with amusing anecdotes about people from the office. All in all, it was just like most of their evenings.

"Really, I don't understand how anyone _can't _think so," Auggie said lightly in response to her complaint. "It's the best, easily."

"Exactly what I was saying," Annie agreed. "At least someone thinks so."

Auggie smirked playfully. "Yes well, you know what they say. Great minds think alike."

"And fools seldom differ," she finished for him with a laugh, nudging his shoulder with hers. He laughed, bumping her back, and that's when the amused thought shot through his mind. _God I love her._ She had already started talking again before he even realised what it was that he'd thought, and he stiffened slightly, mind racing. Where had that come from?

"Auggie, you okay?" Annie's concerned voice startled him and he turned his attention to her. The sweet sound of her voice, the gentle scents surrounding her, the feel of her soft hand on the back of his and the brush of her knee against his beneath the table as she twisted to face him. He thought of all of the nights they had spent like this, in perfect comfort with each other in a way they weren't around others. He thought of the pulsing warmth that dwelled in his chest whenever he was around her, or talking to her on the phone, or even when he just thought of her. He thought of the way that she could break through his every defence and work her way into places that he wouldn't dream of allowing anyone else. And it came to him in a moment of pure clarity.

He was falling in love with Annie Walker.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said and smiled, relaxing again. "Just got distracted. You know you do that to me, darling." Annie laughed and nudged him playfully again, and then they simply sank back into their usual conversations and banter. Because as much as the revelation had caught him off guard, in a way it didn't really surprise him either. There were worse things in the world than being in love with his best friend. He could think more about it later.

Right now, he had a funny story about Conrad and Bea that he wanted to tell her.


	44. Mussitate

**Mussitate**: (v.) To silently move the lips in simulation of audible speech.

* * *

A sharp gesture from across the table caught Annie's attention and she looked over at Danielle, who was apparently trying to silently get her attention. She stared at her older sister in confusion. The rest of the table was talking, most of them listening to an animated story that Auggie was telling from beside her, but her sister was giving her a pointed look.

"_He's cute_," Danielle mouthed and gestured shortly at Auggie.

Annie rolled her eyes but didn't respond. She had expected something as much when she'd begged Auggie to come along as her date to this week's dinner so her sister wouldn't have the chance to set her up with some loser, but she had sort of hoped it would wait until she was finished eating at least. No such luck. Apparently Danielle had decided that Auggie's blindness gave her the perfect excuse for interrogation right beneath the man's nose where Annie couldn't make a scene about it.

Danielle pointed back and forth between Annie and Auggie, and then mouthed, "_Are you_-?"

"_No_," Annie mouthed back firmly, adding a serious glare to the end just to drive her point in. "_We're just friends_."

"_Why_?" Danielle asked silently and pouted. When Annie's only reply was a small sigh and another roll of her eyes, she continued, "_Funny, sweet, really, really sexy_." Annie couldn't help but smirk at the look that had slipped onto her sister's face at that. It was a good thing Auggie couldn't see it; that would do wonders for his already comfortably large ego. "_You like each other. Get together. At least give him a try._"

"_No_," Annie repeated with another glare that was slightly ruined by the blush on her cheeks that the implications of her sister's final statement had brought out in her. Give Auggie a try? No, taking her best friend for a test drive that night didn't seem like a smart idea. "_Just friends_." Then she turned her focus to the actual conversation at the table, ignoring Danielle to prove that she was done talking about it.

Thankfully Danielle didn't broach the subject again, except for to give Annie a very deliberate look when she left to take Auggie home that night. The car ride was comfortably enjoyable as they exchanged amusing notes about their dinner company, and it drove her sister's unspoken argument out of her mind. She should've known she wouldn't be that lucky.

"So, what were you and Danielle whispering about?" Auggie asked, smirking mischievously.

"Wh–what do you mean?" Annie asked in surprise. There was no way he was talking about what she thought he was. No way.

"You and Dani were having a silent conversation over dinner," Auggie said, his grin widening.

"How did you know?" Annie asked. They hadn't even made any noise. How had he figured it out?

Auggie laughed lightly. "I'm a little offended that you still underestimate my awesome observational skills," he remarked in mock hurt, even while he was smiling. "So let me guess, it was about me?"

"You think _everything_ is about you," Annie replied teasingly. His only response was a shallow shrug. "As a matter of fact, she was trying to pimp you out to me."

A contemplative look crossed Auggie's face and then he chuckled. "Wow, I knew this dinner would be interesting but I didn't see that one coming," he mused. "So, what'd you say?"

"Don't look so eager, Romeo," she said with a laugh, but didn't answer right away as she pulled the car up against the kerb in front of his building. "And to answer your question, even though I'm sure the point went straight over her head, I informed her that we are just friends."

Auggie nodded, a thoughtful look still under his smile. "Yeah well you used to refuse to bring me to these dinners too, and she wore you down there," he said with a smirk. "It won't be long before you cave on this too."

Annie snorted and reached over to smack him in the chest. "It will be with that smarmy attitude," she said. "Alright, out of the car, Casanova, before you completely ruin your chances of me ever finding you charming."

"Alright, alright," Auggie conceded, opening the car door and slipping out onto the pavement. He unfolded the cane that had been tucked into his pocket, and then bent down to talk to her again. "Night, Annie."

"Night, Augs," she responded and smiled warmly.

He had halfway straightened up before he bent again. "Oh and Annie," he said and she made a small noise to show she was listening. "Tell Danielle she can set a place for me at the table next week too, would you?" And with that he winked at her, closed the car door, and started up the walk to his building.

Annie simply shook her head, smiling to herself as she shifted the car into drive and pulled back out on the road. Only Auggie would enjoy a dinner with a crazy stranger trying to hook him up with his best friend all night. But at least she wouldn't have to worry about suffering through the dinners as much anymore. There were definitely worse people to be her dinner date than Auggie.


	45. Fossick

**Fossick**: (v.) To search for any object by which to make gain; to hunt; seek; ferret out.

* * *

Auggie ran his fingers across the bookcase, feeling the spine of each book and checking for any inconsistencies. He was sure that it wouldn't be that difficult to find, but she was proving to be a far trickier opponent than he'd expected. Picking up on nothing in the highest two shelves, he knelt to check the lower ones more thoroughly. Damn, where was it?

"You're never going to find it, Auggie."

He smirked at the singsong voice coming from the next room, but moved his search on to the bureau next to the shelves. "You know hiding things from the blind guy is just bad form," he called back as his fingers sifted through drawers.

"I wasn't hiding it from you," she replied, and the lack of echo told him she'd come out of the bathroom. "I was hiding it from Chloe and Kat. You're just the one who's impatient and couldn't wait for me to get it for you."

"You were taking forever in the shower," Auggie said with a shrug, like that was a justifiable answer. Her only response was a light chuckle, and she left him to continue his intrusive search of the contents of her bedroom. After he'd finished with the bureau he crossed the room to the desk and rifled through the drawers there.

"Warmer, cold, warm, arctic, burning hot," Annie teased from the other end of the room and he paused long enough to shoot a sarcastic look over his shoulder in her direction. She laughed as he went back to work.

"Are you having a good time back there?" he asked as his fingers ghosted through a drawer that seemed to hold nothing but various pens.

"Just enjoying the view," she remarked playfully. Auggie smirked and fought against the warmth on the back of neck, well aware of the way he was bent over the desk.

"Glad you like it, darling," he shot back. "I always aim to please."

Five minutes later when he had checked every conceivable piece of furniture in her room, he gave a short sigh of defeat. "Alright, I surrender," he said, feeling his way toward the bed to sit down. "You must have some sort of loose floorboard that I missed or something." He sank down onto the mattress, but then a faint noise caught his attention and he froze. "Oh you're kidding me," he trailed off.

Climbing down off the bed, he laid on the floor and dragged himself beneath the mattress. He ran his fingers across the underside of the box springs, and when he found a hole in the fabric his eyebrows shot up. Plunging his hand inside, the crinkle of plastic made him grin triumphantly. He crawled out from under the bed, the bag of chocolate candies clutched in his hand.

Annie was laughing and she crossed the room to him. "I am very impressed," she said and even through her amusement he could tell she meant it. Her fingers brushed across his shirt and then through his hair, apparently dusting him off.

"Yes, well, I am pretty impressive," Auggie agreed unashamedly.

"How'd you figure it out?" she asked curiously.

"I heard the bag rustling when I sat down," he confessed, and then continued with a roguish grin, "How I didn't pick up on that last night I'll never know. Although I suppose I was rather – _preoccupied_."

"Incorrigible."

"So they say," he said. Then he pried the bag in his hands open and inhaled the warm scent of milk chocolate. Grabbing one of the foil-wrapped candies, he held it up between them. "Kiss?" he asked with an innocent smile.

Annie took the chocolate from him and he could actually hear her smile. "Don't mind if I do," she said and then he felt her lips brush his. When he returned the kiss eagerly, she drew back. "C'mon, Auggie, I just got out of the shower," she complained as he kissed a trail along her jaw.

"So we'll take another," he said against her neck. Annie made a humming noise of assent and he grinned.

They both forgot about the chocolates pretty quickly after that.


	46. Nympholepsy

**Nympholepsy**: (n.) A frenzy of emotion, as for something unattainable.

* * *

Abigail Anderson propped her feet up on the coffee table, watching her older brother weave his way carefully back to the sofa with a bottle in either hand and a package of Oreos cradled in the crook of one arm. She chuckled quietly when he grunted as his foot hit the leg of the table on his way to the seat, and he smiled slightly at it. Of the entire Anderson brood, she was the only one who truly understood that August liked being treated as if he wasn't blind – apart from the general exception of people rearranging his furniture, of course. But then again, he hadn't liked people messing with his things before he went blind either.

"You know, I still feel oddly criminal doing this," he informed her as he held a cold beer bottle in her direction. She took it from him with a laugh.

"Augs, I'm twenty-_nine_," she reminded him as he set the package of cookies between them on the couch and opened his own beer. "It's perfectly legal to supply me with alcohol now."

"Yeah, well unfortunately you'll always be my baby sister," he said sagely and shrugged.

"I know, I know," she said exasperatedly, having heard it often enough. "Which means you're always going to think of me as the freckle-faced, pigtail-sporting little princess of the family. Who, might I add, can still kick your ass."

"I've never doubted that for a moment, Abs," he answered with a smirk. "You kicked my ass when we were kids, why would now be any different?" They both exchanged amused grins – even though he couldn't see them, he was very adept at giving the impression that he had. Abigail figured it was just because they were so in tune with each other. They had been inseparably close growing up, and of the seven children, they were the only ones to consistently get along.

"So how are things back at the homestead?" Auggie asked sarcastically, a playfully derisive smirk on his face that might have masked his curiosity if she hadn't known him so well. Abigail took a long pull from her beer and then set into filling him in on everything that had happened back in Illinois since his last visit. It had been eight months since Adam's funeral and with busy schedules they had hardly spoken to each other since.

"What about you?" Abigail asked when she'd finished telling him about all the changes in their siblings' lives. "How are things between you and Annie?" She smiled at the blush that appeared on his neck as he sputtered for a response.

"There _is_ nothing between Annie and I," he said indignantly.

"Me thinks he doth protest too much," Abigail teased. Auggie rolled his eyes but settled for a dignified silence as he sipped at his beer. "C'mon Augs, you unexpectedly bring along some hot girl to be your emotional support to a funeral and then try to tell me that there's nothing between you two. How dumb do you think I am?" When Auggie opened his mouth she made a loud noise. "No, don't answer that question. Just tell me the truth about Annie."

"There's not a whole lot to tell," Auggie said unconcernedly. "We work together at the Smithsonian, I met her when she came down to check some research I was doing on some art she was commissioned to acquire. She's funny, and she actually gets my sense of humour. We started talking during our breaks, and getting drinks after work. We're best friends."

"And you're in love with her." Abigail said it in a tone that left absolutely no room for argument. She knew her brother well enough to recognise the warmth in his eyes when he'd been close to the pretty blonde co-worker he'd brought back to Glencoe with him. With her arm through his, he had looked more contented than Abigail could remember having seen him in years, perhaps more than she'd ever seen him despite the weight of the situation that had been resting on his shoulders.

To his credit, Auggie didn't dispute the statement. He simply drank his beer with his unfocused gaze directed several inches to her left, a distant expression on his face.

"How long?" Abigail asked curiously.

"I'm not sure," Auggie admitted. "A while. I realised it a couple weeks ago, but when I try to figure out just when it actually happened, I can't. I think maybe I just always have."

Abigail nodded thoughtfully. "What're you going to do about it?"

Auggie turned in her direction, an incredulous look on his face. "What do you mean, what am I gonna do about it?"

"You know right well what I mean, August," Abigail said firmly. "You're in love with her. Make a move."

"I can't." There was hurt and dejection and a sulkiness that always preceded his defensiveness creeping into his voice, and his knuckles had gone white around the neck of his beer bottle.

When it became clear that he wasn't going to elaborate any on that, Abigail sighed. "And why is that?" she prompted, making her annoyance very clear.

Auggie opened and closed his mouth several times without making any distinguishable sound, and then he simply let out a frustrated noise. Dragging his hand through his curls, he slumped backwards against the arm of the couch, looking both aggravated and defeated. "Because she's Annie," he said finally, the sentence leaving him like a weary breath.

"Yeah I'm pretty sure that's her name," Abigail agreed sarcastically, hoping it would provoke him into a real response.

"No, I mean – she's _Annie_. She's my best friend, and I'm her best friend, and I think that's all I'm ever going to be," he said in a rush. "Annie, she's had it rough as far as dating goes. Like, bad dating in a way that you could never possibly understand. She has a hard time trusting people and getting close to people, and I'm that one person that she's close to. I can't risk it. I can't risk breaking that trust she has in me, because then she won't have anyone. And she just – she won't survive long like that."

"I think she's a little stronger than you're giving her credit for," Abigail said with a small laugh, eyeing her brother suspiciously. She'd always thought that there was something that he wasn't telling his family, something more to his life than he was letting on. This just made that feeling grow stronger, not to mention make her think that Annie must be in on whatever his big secret was.

"She is strong," Auggie agreed. "Incredibly so. But even the strongest person needs someone to fall back on when they're feeling weak. That's what I am to her. It doesn't matter if the vaguest smell of grapefruit makes my heart leap. Or if feeling her hand on mine feels so amazing that I just want to hold onto her forever. Or if hearing her cry makes me wish I could do anything, even sell my soul, just to make her better. It doesn't matter that she's the one person in the world who makes me feel real and whole and alive again like I haven't felt since before I was deployed, because I'm still her best friend. And that's all I'm going to be to her, because I just love her_ too God damn much_."

Abigail stared in awe at her older brother, stunned into silence for the first time in a very long time by his emotional outburst. Ever since he'd hit his teenage years, August had been a pretty nonchalant person. He shut off his emotional reactions and even in the most serious of situations he could play it off like it wasn't bothering him in the slightest. But here he was, ranting and raving with a thoroughly crushed expression on his face and a painful hitch in his voice. Her heart broke just a little for him.

Setting aside her beer, Abigail slid closer to him on the couch and took his free hand in both of hers. He flinched slightly, his jaw tightening defensively, but he didn't pull away. "Auggie, you know I love you," she started gently, and then finished very pointedly, "but you're a moron."

Despite himself, Auggie cracked the smallest of smiles. "You always were fabulous at inspirational speeches, Abs."

"I know," she said unashamedly. "Look, I know that I generally pretend that you still have twenty-twenty, not that you ever had it to begin with, but this is one time when I am going to point-blank call you on being blind as a bat." Auggie nodded in understanding, his lips twitching again at her bluntness. "It is a real shame that you cannot see the way Annie looks at you. I know I'm not as good at reading people as you are, but even I know that that isn't the way that people look at someone who is just their best friend. Hell, even _Anthony _picked up on it." Auggie grimaced knowingly; the third Anderson child was not exactly renowned for being either observant or intelligent.

"Annie really, truly cares about you," Abigail continued. "It's impossible to miss the chemistry that you two have together. It's like you guys are telepathic or something, the way you can play off of each other without putting any effort into it. Not to mention even an idiot could detect the pretty obvious sexual frustration between you."

"Abigail!" Auggie interjected hastily, his eyes wide and his ears pink.

"August," she replied offhandedly. "I'm just saying, she has got some very serious feelings for you. It might just be that she loves you as a friend at the moment, but it has all the potential in the world to turn into something more. So start it out slow. Ease her into the idea, and maybe she'll figure out what everyone in Glencoe is now very positive about. She loves you, Auggie. Don't give up hope yet."

Auggie's only immediate response was to squeeze her fingers and then he relaxed into the sofa cushions, looking thoughtful. Abigail left him to his musing, returning her focus to her beer and her own wandering thoughts. It was a few minutes later when Auggie awkwardly cleared his throat, but when she looked over at him he looked every bit the constant-cool, confident-on-the-borderline-of-being-cocky older brother she knew and loved.

"Wow Dr. Phil," he jibed. "You should take that one on tour."

"Yeah well someone's got to talk sense into you," Abigail replied with a laugh. "No one else in the world understands your particular brand of crazy. You know, except maybe one Annie Walker."

She didn't fail to notice the slight upturn in his lips at the mention of the name. "Ease her into it slow, huh?" he asked appraisingly. "And how on earth would you recommend doing that? 'Annie dear, would you go out with me, but like in a no strings attached, no implications, no pressure sort of date?' I might be good with the ladies but I don't think even I could pull that one off."

"Just get her to be your date for something that isn't a real date thing," Abigail said with a shrug. "Something non-romantic, you know. Just play if off like it's something you just don't want to go to alone, and then just be your usual charming self and see where things go from there. I'm not promising immediate results, but I know she will come around." She snorted into her drink and added, "Maybe you can get her to be your escort for that dinner you and the boys have set for when they're all coming up here. At the least she can keep you from killing anyone."

Auggie laughed, but there was something twinkling mischievously in his eyes that made Abigail think that perhaps she had just set Annie up for a disastrous date. It was kind of a shame, really, because Abigail really liked the other girl. Oh well, she'd survive the lunch. It wasn't like Annie didn't already know what the Andersons were like, and she was more than capable of holding her own against the sarcasm and teasing that always filled any sort of Anderson family gathering. Annie was a good girl.

And of course anyone who could make her favourite brother behave like a real human with emotions again was perfectly fine in Abigail's book. Yes, she was definitely looking forward to having Annie as her sister-in-law. It was only a matter of time.


	47. Teem

**Teem**: (v.) To abound or swarm; be prolific or fertile.

* * *

"Auggie!"

Annie watched as Auggie shifted his weight just slightly, bracing himself for the inevitable impact. She smiled as Chloe practically threw herself at him in excitement, and Katia followed a moment later. Right behind them was the little siege of Chloe's friends who were over for the party, most of them from Chloe's class and calling out eagerly to their favourite tour guide.

"Hi guys," he replied, not bothering to hold the laugh in his voice as he felt a half dozen pairs of hands grabbing at him. "Alright, where's my birthday girl?"

"Right here, right here," Chloe cheered, tugging on his arm. "It's my birthday, Auggie. I'm _nine_!"

"Glad you guys could make it," Danielle said, walking out of the kitchen to stand next to Annie, both of them watching Auggie interacting with all of the rambunctious children. "I was worried when you called earlier."

"Yeah sorry about that," Annie said, summoning up her cover story with practised ease. "My flight back from Chicago got delayed, they thought it might not take off until morning. Thank God they got everything fixed in time. Although Auggie was determined he'd be here with or without me." The truth was that she'd been nowhere near Chicago, had spent the last eight hours before her flight hiding out in a safe house after being ousted by an informant, and was currently only awake due to copious amounts of energy drinks that Auggie had had waiting for her when she'd gotten back. And he had had zero intention of coming before she'd begged him to come along and help keep her conscious enough not to break her cover.

"Well you made it just in time for dinner," Danielle said, smiling affectionately. "And welcome home." Then she clapped her hands, drawing the attention of the little kids, and announced, "Alright, kids, pizza's ready."

There was a loud cheer, one baritone mixed in with all of the sopranos, and then the kids began thundering into the kitchen. Auggie trailed behind them, a contented look on his face, and he smiled when Annie placed her hand in his arm. "Thanks for coming," she said to him as they followed the crowd into the dining room, where the kids were already gathering around the table and digging into Danielle's home-made pizzas.

"Yeah well you know how much I love third graders," he murmured back, only a touch sarcastically. The adults ate their dinner at the island counter, Annie and Auggie telling Danielle idle things about their work covers while the kids ate noisily at the table. The relative peace lasted only long enough for the kids to get bored with eating, and then things slowly collapsed toward discord again. Before total chaos could ensue, Danielle stepped in to suggest that they go into the living room to play games.

"Auggie, come play with us," Chloe said, racing across the kitchen to pull at his arm. "You can tell us more fun stories like the one about the Indians from the museum." Auggie had just opened his mouth to protest when Chloe unleashed the plea that no person with a beating heart could refuse. "Please, Auggie? Ple_-e-e-ease_? With a cherry on top?"

Even without being able to see the puppy dog looks the nine-year-old, and most of her friends, were giving him, Annie could see in his face that he was a goner after that. He looked up in Annie's direction. "What do you think, Annie?" he asked.

"Go ahead," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm gonna help Dani with the dishes." Annie was the only one to catch the sarcasm in his smile as he let the kids drag him from the room. She winced a little when he stumbled over a stray shoe, but she shook it off when he recovered easily. Auggie was a big boy, he'd be okay on his own.

"Glad I didn't pay to hire entertainment," Danielle said when the group had disappeared.

Annie smirked. "Yeah, mimes and clowns will always come up second next to Auggie."

"You know, I think he missed his calling," Danielle said as she carried a stack of plates from the table to the sink. "He would make a great teacher." Annie thought of Auggie's insistence that he avoided all things involving groups of children. Then she paused on her way across the kitchen to peer into the living room.

Auggie was sitting cross-legged on the couch, a semi-circle of children on the floor around him. Katia was kneeling right beside his legs, her head resting on his knee, and Chloe was tucked up under his arm, leaning into his side and staring up at him in rapt interest. He was grinning as he told what must have been a very fascinating story, judging by the attentiveness of the kids.

"Yeah, maybe he would," she had to agree. "But don't tell him that. Work would be too boring if he left." Danielle gave her an all-too-significant look at that, but Annie ignored it as she began rinsing off plates to be loaded into the dishwasher. They talked lightly about Chloe and her birthday and the various funny conversations that had been going on between the kids. When they'd finished they began preparing the cake, but both stopped short when there was a loud yelp of surprise, a thump, and an explosion of raucous laughter.

"That can't be good," Annie muttered and both of them hastily headed for the living room, stopping just inside the doorway. Auggie was on the ground beneath a heap of seven giggling third graders. They were all grasping at his sides and he was shouting out through his laughter, whatever escape attempts he was making obviously failing.

"Oh c'mon, stop!" he pleaded. "This isn't fair, please, that tickles. C'mon, don't pick on the blind guy. Help! Annie? Help me!"

Annie wanted to say something, she really did, but she was doubled over against the wall trying to contain her own laughter. It was Danielle who eventually stepped in to save him. "Kids, how about we go have some cake?" she asked and everyone's attention was instantly diverted from their poor victim. When they had all trooped away, Annie walked over and knelt down next to her best friend.

"You okay there, Auggie?" she asked, still chuckling none-too-quietly.

"No thanks to you," he groused as he sat up, but he was smiling and she knew he wasn't really that upset. "They jumped me, I didn't even get a chance to defend myself. That little Kat is a trickster. She asked me if I was ticklish so abruptly that I didn't even think about it before I answered, and by then I was sunk. They were everywhere, I couldn't get out."

"Wow, the great August Anderson outsmarted by a seven-year-old and her posse of third graders," Annie remarked dryly. "That says a lot for your skills, doesn't it?"

"Absolutely not," Auggie countered defiantly. "Kat is a criminal mastermind, I tell you. You just wait until she uses that devilish mind on you."

Annie laughed, reaching out to smooth down his hair where it had been mussed as he writhed across the carpet. "Well for what it's worth, I think that, despite all your complaints about them, you're really good with kids," she informed him. "You'll make a great dad someday." The smile on Auggie's face was genuine for all of six seconds before it melted back into his typical smirk. Annie took his hand and stood up, pulling him up next to her. "C'mon, Mister Dad, let's go get some of that cake before it's all gone."

Auggie looked contemplative for a moment. "You know, I've never really been into the name calling thing, but I could definitely learn to love hearing you calling me Daddy," he said with a roguish grin.

Rolling her eyes, biting her lip to keep back her laughter, and sending out a grateful prayer that he couldn't see the blush on her cheeks, Annie backhanded him in the chest. "My God, Auggie, you're as bad as Conrad at turning everything in the world into an innuendo."

"I'm offended," he informed her, pouting. "I am much, much better than Conrad. At everything. And I am most definitely willing to prove it. What do you say, Annie," he leaned closer to her and whispered, in a coarse, heated voice that sent chills down Annie's spine, "_who's your daddy_?"

He grunted loudly as she elbowed him hard in the stomach, and he could hear her laughing as she left him to find his own way into the kitchen. And he was fully convinced that she suggested the birthday girl get a piggyback ride up to bed from Auggie just to get her revenge on him for the comment.

In true government fashion, she neither confirmed nor denied it.


	48. Acta

**Acta**: (n.) Official records, as of acts, deeds, proceedings, transactions, or the like.

* * *

Annie forced herself not to fidget in her seat anxiously as she stared at the stoic faces in front of her. She was privately envying the man sitting next to her, who was the perpetual face of calm and casualness despite the absolute seriousness of their situation, even underneath the line of thick stitches on his forehead and the dark bruising of his jaw. How on earth did he do that? She was on the verge of a heart attack herself.

"I am going to assume that the two of you know why you are here," the man in the middle, whose face was all severe lines and hard angles, said in an emotionless voice.

"Does this mean I'm finally getting that raise I've been asking for?" Auggie asked lightly, still looking entirely unconcerned. "Not bad, it only took three years."

"Now is not a time for levity, Anderson," Arthur Campbell, sitting at the right end of the line, said flatly. However Annie couldn't fail to notice that there was a hint of – could it possibly be admiration, or maybe respect, in the older man's eyes. "The pair of you are facing a board of inquiry for your actions. I would advise that you understand the seriousness of this."

"Understood, sir," Auggie said simply and leaned back in his chair again.

"As you should," the middle man said coldly. It appeared that he was the only one who was going to speak, since the others simply stared at them almost unblinkingly. "After all, this isn't the first time you've been here, is it?"

"Nice to see you again too," Auggie replied with a smile. "It's been a while." Annie shot him an exasperated glance even though she knew it wouldn't do any good. As much as she marvelled at Auggie's ability to always be so relaxed, she couldn't help but agree with Arthur; now, with both of their jobs - and maybe even more - on the line, didn't exactly feel like the right time to be cracking jokes.

Giving him a withering look, the middle man – Annie realised she never had caught his name, just knew that he was a big boss on the seventh floor – consulted a paper on the table in front of him. "The both of you are facing multiple charges of refusing to follow orders and insubordination, which lead to a serious breach in protocol that nearly cost lives. And even though you are unsanctioned for field work, Mr. Anderson, you accompanied Agent Walker into the field, directly defying your supervisor's orders," he said. "This has been a hard fall-out on the agency. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Annie bit her lip to hold back a groan when Auggie opened his mouth, fearing what he would say. "Just a little clarification," he said conversationally. "I didn't accompany Agent Walker. I _followed _her."

"And why did you do that?" Middle man pressed.

"Because she was walking into a trap," Auggie said and for the first time there was a hint of seriousness in his voice. "She was going in, deep cover and without any line of contact with Langley. Just after she left, I found an encrypted piece of data that had been missed in our preliminary research. It had a second layer beneath what we saw, a coded patch designed to send back information when we opened it, alerting the creator that we had read it and would be acting on it. I had to let her know that her cover was blown."

"Why didn't you follow chain of command and report this information to your supervisor?" Middle Man asked and Annie unconsciously fisted her hands in her lap nervously.

"I did," Auggie answered simply. "I took the information straight to Joan Campbell, and she took it to Arthur Campbell." Middle Man glanced sideways at Arthur, who nodded in agreement. "And he decided that it wasn't solid enough proof to risk aborting such an important mission."

"So that's when you went rogue." It wasn't a question, stated in a cold, flat voice that was accompanied by a vaguely disgusted look.

"Actually that's when I took the rest of the day off sick," Auggie said with a shrug. "You can check my files, I'm sure you have them, I made sure to clear my departure with my supervisor. Stomach flu, nasty piece of work. So I went home early."

"And then took yourself off the grid and went after Agent Walker, despite the fact that your supervisor had explicitly commanded you not to do anything that might damage the already delicate mission," Middle Man said and even though he was clearly trying to contain it, Annie could hear the quiver of anger in his tone.

"Yes," Auggie said without argument. "That's about how it went down."

"And you, Agent Walker," Middle Man said, turning his narrowed gaze on her. "You not only accessorised Mr. Anderson's asinine actions, but included him in your mission despite your knowledge that he is not a sanctioned field officer and had no business to be anywhere within a hundred feet of the mission."

"Yes," Annie agreed, trying to sound much more confident than she felt, trying to sound as calm as Auggie was. "Not that we had much of a choice. Right after Auggie – er, Mr. Anderson – arrived, is when they sprang the trap and I didn't get much of a chance to get him out of the way before things went wrong."

"At which point, you two broke every single protocol that had been set in place for the mission," Middle Man said. "The incident that followed included open gunfire in a business district, including shots taken by Mr. Anderson himself, who might I add, is legally blind and therefore very far from being licensed to even carry a gun, let alone discharge it."

"I hit my target, didn't I?" Auggie chipped in and then grunted when Annie stomped on his toes beneath the table.

"And sometime in the middle of this firefight, your marks set off an explosion that injured five civilians and killed two of your marks, not to mention set off a terrorist panic." Middle Man was basically grinding the words out between his teeth now in his frustration. "Why is it that the pair of you seemed to be involved in every explosion that this agency has to deal with?"

"I've been asking myself the same thing for a long time, sir," Auggie said with a casual shrug.

"If I can speak up in their defence at this point," Arthur interjected, surprising everyone in the room, even the unshakable Auggie, "that explosion would have taken place regardless of their change in plans. Had Anderson not stepped in, Agent Walker would've walked straight into that trap and been killed, taking her, the marks, and all information that we could have recovered with them. As it is, Anderson managed to recover a large portion of the information before the explosion took place, at a great personal risk, which is already being examined and put into use in the DPD tech department. We also still have one of the marks alive and in custody, being interrogated by both our and FBI officers as we speak."

"Are you saying that you support their actions?" Middle Man asked in frustrated awe.

"Support? No," Arthur said simply. "They both acted out of order and discipline should be taken for that. I just think that we cannot disregard the fact that, unorthodox as their methods might have been, they did accomplish their objective to the best of their abilities."

"This is not the first time these DPD agents have gotten away with these sorts of actions," Middle Man said. "Ever since her instatement here, Agent Walker has been racking up a steady mountain of insubordination charges and marks for disobeying her orders." He picked up something from the empty chair beside him and slammed it down on the tabletop. It took Annie a second to realise that it was a manila file folder, stuffed with papers until it was nearly an inch thick. "This is Agent Walker's file. In the relatively short time that she's worked here, she has amassed a file the size of which most senior agents haven't even accomplished."

Then he grabbed a second one and dropped it down beside the first. It was slightly smaller than hers. "This is Mr. Anderson's file prior to Agent Walker's arrival," Middle Man said. Then he lifted a second stack of papers and placed it on top of Auggie's file. "And this is all of the new addition since her instatement. Anderson, your file has more than doubled in size since you've become the handler for Agent Walker."

"What are you getting at?" Arthur asked and there was cool suspicion in his tone now.

"Since Agent Walker's arrival, Mr. Anderson has gone out on countless unsanctioned ops, disregarding the restrictions placed on him by his supervisors," Middle Man started, but Arthur interrupted him.

"One of which was that little op that just so happened to help us seal up the Liza Hearn leak," he put in pointedly. "Not to mention that he's also been sent out on sanctioned work as well. He was our lead operative in the case of Natasha Petrovna and her communications hack, if you recall."

"Which he only achieved by going AWOL and leading Agents Walker and Wilcox on a wild goose chase across the entire northeastern United States," Middle Man growled out. "I'm saying that this partnership is dangerous and I recommend that Agent Walker be removed from Mr. Anderson's care and reassigned to a new handler."

"No." Auggie said it firmly, forcefully, and Annie blinked in surprise to see that he was now on his feet and glaring with narrowed eyes in the direction of the board table, his hands flat against the tabletop so strongly that his fingers were bleached. "Absolutely not."

"This is not your choice, Anderson," Middle Man said sharply.

"I agree," another man at the table said abruptly. Annie felt her chest catch in horror before she realised that the man wasn't staring at her and Auggie, but at Middle Man. "Arthur is right on this one, Bart. They might be the Bonnie and Clyde of the agency, but Anderson and Walker get the job done. Of all of those missions they've taken on together, nearly every one of them ends in success even through unexpected circumstances and improvisation. I haven't seen a partnership with such natural chemistry since Joan and Arthur were in the field together."

"It's true," a third man said, his tone bored as he glanced over the paperwork in front of him. "They are both good agents, but together they are remarkable. Breaking this pair up would be a serious detriment to the agency." None of the other men at the table said anything, but there were significant, unreadable looks being exchanged by all of them.

"Mr. Anderson, take your seat again, would you?" the second man said. Auggie scowled but sank down into his chair again. "We will take a vote then, on the future of this partnership. Agreed?" All of the other men nodded.

Underneath the table, Annie grabbed Auggie's hand and squeezed his fingers in a terrified death grip. They couldn't separate her and Auggie. There was no one else that she trusted the way she trusted him. She would never have faith in another partnership like she did with theirs, and she would never feel as safe without his voice in her ear to guide her home. They just couldn't take him away from her. They couldn't.

"All of those in favour of terminating this partnership," the second man said and Annie felt her stomach plummet as hands began to rise. One, two, three… Auggie's fingers tightened against hers and she gripped back, sharing their fear. "And all those in favour of continuing this partnership." More hands lifted – one, two, three, four… Her heart leapt up to thunder in her throat, stopping her breath. "Very well," the second man said with the slightest curl of a smug smile on his lips. "For the time being your partnership will continue. But know that we will be keeping a close eye on your work. Don't give us reason to regret this decision."

Annie wanted to thank them, say anything in the world to convey just how relieved she was, but all she could manage was a shaky nod. Auggie was mirroring the gesture at her side. The men trooped out of the room through a door in the back, and Arthur nodded to them shortly before following. Annie's knees were trembling as she stood up and Auggie rose with her. For a second they just walked toward the door to the hall in silence, and then suddenly Annie spun him to face her and threw her arms around his neck.

"Told you everything would be okay," Auggie murmured against her shoulder, but he was hugging her back just as tightly. "Nobody in their right mind would break us up."

"I know," Annie said, trying to sound confident in the idea. "I'm just glad, that's all. Odds are that those guys aren't in their right minds."

"Good point," Auggie admitted with a laugh. They finally pulled apart from each other and Annie hastily rubbed at her eyes to stay the grateful tears that had welled up there. He offered his arm and she took it, walking with him out of the board room and into the hallway. As they stood waiting for the elevator, Auggie suddenly grinned broadly and she made a questioning noise. "My file was so much bigger than yours," he said proudly.

Annie laughed and nudged him with her shoulder. "Yeah well you've had a little while longer to build yours up than I have," she pointed out. "Give it time, I will win."

Auggie smirked and took her arm again as the elevator pinged and the doors glided open. "C'mon Bonnie, I think this merits a very long coffee break, don't you?"

Annie smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I most definitely agree with you there, Clyde."

A beat of silence.

"Mine was still the biggest."


	49. Mana

**Mana**: (n.) A generalized, supernatural force or power, which may be concentrated in objects or persons.

* * *

He had no idea how she managed it, but she did and it was astonishing. It was like she didn't even know the affect that she had, like she did it all without having to put the slightest bit of thought into it. But she did it all the same and it had left his world on its toes.

It wasn't that he hadn't noticed the changes in his life. He had been losing himself and he was aware of it, but he ignored it. When he'd gone blind it wasn't just his vision that had faded into darkness. He lost himself in his job, working and slaving to prove that he was still useful, until nothing became more important to him that his work. All the dreams he'd once had, of a wife and a family and a white-picket fence, all fell by the wayside as he struggled to keep his position as the best in the business. He'd stopped forming meaningful relationships, and had put a damper on the ones he already had.

Then she came into his world. And with her jokes and light touches and dry humour, she managed to ground him to reality again. She made him want something more than just work again. She made him wish he could have a real connection with someone and stopped him from obsessing over his position in the business. He still fought to stay on top, and he still believed that he was so much more than they let him be, but he found more useful ways to channel that drive.

She could temper his maelstrom of emotions. She knew how to interpret his unusual sense of humour and she could banter back just as easily. She knew just what to say to ease the heavy feeling of guilt in his chest, or to lift his spirits when he was upset. And she could tame his wild, explosive anger with the simplest touches, like the feel of her fingertips against his wrist was some sort of calming light that just flooded into him and chased away the bad things. Her voice was a tonic that soothed his soul and he couldn't get enough of it.

"Auggie?" His heart leapt into his throat at the voice on the other end of the connection.

"Yeah, Annie, I'm here," he said quickly. "Are you-?"

"I'm okay," she said. She sounded tired and breathless, but there was a lightness in her voice that steadied his pulse and his grip on the desktop eased. "You did it again, Auggie. You're my hero."

"Yeah well just get home in one piece and you can thank me then," he said in relief, sinking back into his seat. Although he didn't relax entirely until three hours later when he heard the glide of his office door and the clicking of heels and felt a warm, gentle touch against his forearm. And his reality slid back into place.

Like some heavenly being, Annie Walker had brought light back to his world and saved him from the darkness.


	50. Wassail

**Wassail**: (n.) An expression of good wishes on a festive occasion, especially in drinking to someone.

* * *

Auggie couldn't believe that this moment had actually come. It felt like the time leading up to it had been skewed, passing both in long slow drags and in great jumping dollops. Had it been weeks or months or years since they'd started planning this? Either way, they were sitting here now and the beautiful fuzziness in his head was the most euphoric feeling he'd ever known. The day had come, the ceremony was over, and he was _married_.

Someone was clearing their throat and he forced himself to focus on the reception again, remembering that people were in the middle of giving toasts. "Hey everyone." Auggie smiled a little at the voice; Greg, from work, and he sounded kind of uncomfortable. The poor tech guy never had been much for public speaking. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Greg, Auggie's friend. Well when he's in a good mood at least."

People chuckled appreciatively and Auggie felt the hand in his squeeze affectionately. "Anyway, I've known Auggie for a long time now, ever since I started working for him," Greg said and Auggie could tell he was struggling to figure out just how much he was allowed to say. At least half of the people at the wedding weren't aware that the other half of the room was CIA. "He's always been a really good boss, even if he does get those grumpy days. I have to admit when he asked me to be his best man, I was kind of afraid to say no in case it landed me under a lot of extra paperwork. Not that I would've said no anyway. Auggie's a great guy and I'm really glad I have him for a friend.

"But he started being an even greater guy after Annie showed up in his life," Greg continued. Auggie felt his smile slip into something softer as the fingers between his tightened slightly. "We all knew right away that they were something special. He started smiling all the time when she was around. And not that stupid, 'I'm smarter than all of you so deal with it' smirk thing he always does, but a real, honest to God smile. It was like she came in and just smoothed out all the places where he was a little bit crazy. No offence, Aug."

"None taken," Auggie replied with a grin. "Just don't be surprised if there's more paperwork on your desk Monday." He could hear Greg's strange lilting chuckle over the general noise of amusement from around the room.

"Wouldn't expect anything less from you," Greg remarked idly. "Anyway, I don't know Annie quite as well as I know Auggie, but really, what is there to say about her? She's just – awesome. I mean, they've both always been awesome, but since they've been together they've become super awesome." There was a bit of muffled laughter and after a second Greg joined in awkwardly. "Guess I really should've rehearsed this. Okay, anyway, that's enough from me. So, uh, to Auggie and Annie!"

Auggie felt a glass stem pressed into his palm and he lifted it for the toast as everyone else echoed Greg's sentiment. The wine tasted unnaturally sweet to his tongue, but before he could comment on it to Annie someone was announcing the first dance. Annie took his hand and pulled him to his feet, and she led him out into what he hoped was a very open area. Despite his arguments that blind guys make terrible dancers, she had insisted. And who was he to ever deny her anything?

Annie leaned close to his body as they revolved on the dance floor, and he drank in the feel of her in his arms and the subtle sounds of the music and the ever present scent of grapefruit that he knew she'd worn today just for him. After a minute of silent dancing, he felt her breath against his ear and she said, "What do you say the moment this thing is over we ditch the fruity alcohol and go indulge in some Patròn?"

There was no confining the brilliant smile that crossed Auggie's face and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. God how he loved this woman. "Whatever you say, Mrs. Anderson."


	51. Roborant

**Roborant**: (n.) A strengthening medicine; a tonic; a restorative.

* * *

"Annie, shit, I screwed up. You gotta get outta there. Now!"

Auggie's voice was the last coherent thing she knew before the loud noise splattered blood across her and the world around her descended into chaos. She ducked behind a stand of shelves and listened to the sharp sound of bullets cracking through the air and pummelling against every available surface. When she took a second to peer back out into the centre of the room she could see the pool of dark red around the body of her informant. Damn it. One bullet straight to the forehead. That hadn't been an accident; this was planned.

"Annie, talk to me," the voice in her ear demanded shakily and Annie took an unconscious breath of relief. "What's going on?"

"It was an ambush," she said hastily, retreating further into the safety of her little corner as a new round of bullets thundered against the concrete just beyond her shelter. "Jamair is dead. They've got me pinned down in the building. At least four men and all of them have very big guns."

"Okay, just stay calm," Auggie said but he sounded more like he was telling himself than her. "We're going to get you out of there, Annie. Extraction is already on their way. Do you see any way to get out of the building?"

"They're on all the doors," Annie said, risking a look out and quickly jumping down again when the semi-automatics went off. "All the windows are thirty feet up. Auggie, I'm not seeing any way out of here."

"We're gonna find something, I promise," Auggie said but she could tell he was distracted. "I'm looking. Just don't get shot while I'm looking, okay?"

Annie chuckled weakly but fell silent when she heard a voice jeering at her from across the main room in Spanish. At that moment she wished she wasn't fluent enough to understand the death threats. Trying to tune the voices out, she scanned every inch of the building that she could see from her shelter, looking for any possible escape. All she could see were blank steel walls and dusty metal shelves.

"They're closing in, Aug, I'm not gonna get out of here," Annie said anxiously. When she tried to lean out and get a better look, a bullet left a dent in the metal of the shelves and a chorus of amused laughter rang out in the room.

"Yes you are, Annie," Auggie said roughly in her ear, his voice hard and frantic. "Yes you are. Don't talk like that. This is my fault and I'm getting you out of there. Just stay with me." Annie tried to make a break for the next row of shelves and then drew back with a muttered curse. "Annie?"

"I'm fine," she answered quickly, quietly.

"I've got it!" Auggie said, so loudly that Annie flinched. "Annie we've got it. There's a service tunnel in the south wall. If you can get there, it'll get you out of the building."

Annie took a quick mental stock of the cardinal directions and then looked toward the south wall. It was the wall to her right, a good twenty foot shot. From this angle she couldn't see any sort of door in the wall, but she had to trust Auggie. This could be her only hope. Auggie had never steered her wrong before. "Okay, I'm going to try it," she murmured, breathing deeply to calm herself and kicking off her shoes.

Before Auggie could respond, Annie bolted sideways behind the shelter of the next shelf, gunshots on her heels. "Annie? Annie, are you still there?" Auggie's voice was quivering, and she recognized the sound as fear. Auggie was scared.

"I'm here," Annie said as laughing Spanish voices echoed around here. She could see a man coming closer and she knew she was running out of time. She jumped up and started running again, trying to not focus on the thunderous claps of bullets around her. She had just dodged around the last shelving unit and she could see the small slat in the wall where she figured – prayed – the service tunnel would be.

A fire seared across her side, tearing through the fabric of her dress and burning her skin. An involuntary scream broke from her lips as she clasped a hand over the wound. The pain startled her and she stumbled, crashing down to the floor in a heavy heap. Laughing rang out around her and she hastily dragged herself back behind the shelter of the shelving row.

Annie checked her side, seeing the torn flesh along her ribcage and the blood staining her skin. It sent a stinging pain through her with every breath, making her afraid to move the slightest bit. She tried to talk to Auggie but then realized the piece was missing from her ear. Panicked, she looked around frantically and saw the little flesh coloured chip lying on the ground where she'd fallen. She leaned back against the shelf, dizziness filling her brain and making her world tilt dangerously. Around her she could hear footsteps coming closer.

"Annie!" The haze in Annie's brain shifted, and she squinted over in the direction of the voice. It was coming from the earpiece on the floor, crackling and distant, but she would recognize it . "Damn it, Annie, answer me!"

Like some sort of healing draught, Auggie's voice flooded into Annie's head and cleared away the drowsiness. It was just a little gunshot wound, not enough to stop her from getting back to Auggie. Only a little bit further and she'd be to the escape. She had to get back, if only to make that fear in her best friend's voice go away.

Pushing the pain to the back of her mind, Annie tucked her feet underneath her and leapt forward. Another shot singed her calf but she kept running, sliding to a shaky stop beside the slit in the wall. With a grunt she kicked three times at the little steel door until it swung in and revealed a narrow passageway behind it. She heard angry shouts behind her as she slipped inside and crashed the door closed behind her. The tunnel was small, forcing her to crawl on her stomach to get through it, but for the time being she was safe from gunfire. She dragged herself, struggling to breathe without injuring herself worse, until she reached a hole at the end of the tunnel. There was air coming through it and when she shoved against the covering it fell away. A strangled noise left her as she pulled herself through the opening, the rusty metal edges scraping along her skin, but a minute later she was scrambling across the alley concrete.

She was free.

Stumbling to her feet, Annie jogged for the street and bolted down the pavement, ignoring the startled looks people were sending her. A block and a half away she heard a screech of tires and a black van pulled up onto the curb beside her. When the door flung open, a man shouted, "Walker, get in," and she complied without thought. The moment she had landed on the floor of the van, the door shut and the engine growled as they roared back onto the road.

Annie clutched at her side, gasping and panting and fighting the nausea that came to her every time she inhaled. Above her she could faintly make out a voice saying, "This is extraction team. You copy us, Auggie? Yeah, we got her. We'll be back at Langley in twenty." A wave of relief swept over her. Auggie knew she okay, he didn't need to be scared anymore. She would see him soon.

Thoughts of her best friend were relaxing and she let them carry her off into the darkness, knowing that when she woke up again he'd be there.


	52. Bricolage

**Bricolage**: (n.) Construction or something constructed by using whatever materials happen to be available.

* * *

Auggie coughed to clear the dust from his lungs, trying vainly to collect his thoughts and rationalise the situation again. His brain immediately fixated on one topic, not allowing him to concentrate on anything else. "Annie?" he called out hoarsely, his ears straining.

"Auggie?" Annie replied, her voice just as ragged as his and a loud bout of rough coughing came from a few feet to his left. He stretched out his arm, fingers dancing across cold concrete and small pieces of loose rubble until they finally found warmth and softness. Annie's wrist. "Damn it, they must have known we were coming."

"Are you hurt?" he asked carefully.

"Just some bumps and scrapes, nothing serious," Annie said, sliding her arm in his hand until she could grip his fingers and squeeze comfortingly. "You?"

"The same, I think," he said, shaking away the dull aching coming from his ankle where he'd tripped getting away from the small explosion and the forming headache in his forehead where he'd hit the floor. Pain stung through his torso as he rolled over onto his back and sat up, using his free hand to feel around him. "What's the situation?"

"I think they collapsed the building on top of us," Annie said. He could hear her shifting and then she drew closer, sitting down at his side. "I don't know, I can't see anything, it's too dark." Her breathing was shaky and shallow beside him. "Auggie, I think we're trapped."

"We'll be fine," Auggie said, methodically like it was a preprogrammed response. Which wasn't far from the truth. "We just need to find a way out. Do you still have your phone? Maybe we can contact Langley, let them know what's happened."

There was rustling and then a tinny beep that he assumed was the mobile. "It's still in one piece but we're not getting any reception," Annie responded, and he could hear her moving around in an attempt to find some signal.

He pulled his own phone from his pocket and when he opened it the robotic voice said, "No available signal." Cursing in his head, he pocketed it again. He should've expected as much. They were in an old concrete fallout shelter beneath hundreds of pounds of rubble. Not exactly a place to pick up on that already spotty cellular reception.

"Okay, let's just search around this place and see if there's any way to get outta here," he said in the direction of Annie's frustrated muttering. His voice sounded oddly flat and hollow in the stale, musty air. "There might be some sort of escape tunnel that leads out of here." He crawled across the ground, his fingers gliding over the uneven surfaces in search of anything that might be a hope of getting out of this place.

On the other side of the shelter, he could hear Annie's laboured breathing and the scrape of her hands over the concrete. Auggie's own breathing was starting to feel a bit shallow and he didn't want to consider what that meant. Trouble breathing meant thinning air, which meant that there wasn't any new oxygen coming in to the shelter. Which meant the likelihood of there being an escape route was very slim, because a tunnel would bring in at least a little bit of a draft. Without it, well, he didn't want to think about the dimensions of the room and how much time they had left before they had used up the remaining oxygen.

"I can't find anything," Annie said and he could hear the anxiety in her voice. Was she thinking along the same lines as him? He hoped not. "What about you?"

"Nothing so far," he said, not wanting to sound like he'd given up hope already. At the same time his mind was pedalling, trying to come up with another plan of action. This was his forte, this was what he was good at. It's what made him a great agent, even blind. He could think on his feet, always have a back-up plan. "Do we have anything useful in here? Anything on these shelves we might be able to use?"

"I don't know, I can't see," Annie said, a bit shortly.

Auggie allowed himself a small smirk. "Neither can I, what's your point?" he asked playfully. He heard a muffled noise of amusement from the other side of the room.

"Right, sorry," she said and there was more scratching noises as she browsed through what must have been the contents of the shelves on the other end of the room. Auggie scooped down whatever he could reach on his side, setting it on the floor at his feet, cataloguing things by touch. Annie's steps were shuffled as she drew closer and she stubbed her toe against his leg, something slipping from her arms and landing on his head with a dull thump. Auggie groaned and rubbed the spot as she apologised.

"It's fine, it's fine," he muttered, finding the discarded object and pulling it into his little pile. He felt its contours with his fingertips and then smiled. "More than fine, actually. I think you brained me with a torch."

"Really?" Annie asked eagerly. Auggie fiddled with it for a moment, finding a small crank on the side and rolling it between his fingers. There was a mechanical whirring noise and then Annie let out a small gasp. "It's working."

"Here then, you keep that," Auggie said, holding it out in the direction of her voice. "Doesn't do me any good. So give me a run down, what do we have here?"

"Some canned vegetables, dried foods here, a first aid kit," Annie listed off over the sound of the shifting objects as she pawed through them. "A kind of rusty Swiss Army knife. A box of… oh they're batteries. Some books printed in Portuguese. Why would the Russian cartel have books in Portuguese? Um, an old wireless radio. A pretty nice wool blanket. That's pretty much it."

"Gees, didn't even leave us a shovel. That's not very sporting," Auggie remarked sarcastically and heard a small laugh from Annie. His mind was racing, putting together the pieces into some devisable idea. He suddenly straightened up and a minute grin slipped onto his lips. "That wireless have a lot of copper wiring inside of it?"

"What are you up to?" Annie asked even as he could hear her fingers prying at the backing of the radio.

"I think that if I can wire the extra batteries to one of the phones, I can boost the signal enough to get a message out to Langley," Auggie explained, already pulling his phone back out of his pocket and opening the battery compartment. "How's the wireless looking?"

"Extra wirey," Annie said and he could hear anticipation in her tone. "Alright, what do you need me to do?"

Auggie set to work immediately. Using the pocket knife, which he had Annie open for him and arrange in his palm, he set to slitting the plastic coverings off the copper wires she tore out of the radio. He cut his fingers more than once, but when Annie had made to comment on it he'd interjected, "Least of our worries right now, dear," and she reluctantly agreed with him.

Once he'd freed all of the wires, he began threading them around the nodes of the spare batteries from the box, using the flat of the blade for extra leverage when his fingers couldn't bend the wire tighter alone. Some of the batteries were so old that the outsides had split, acid now coating their sides, but he managed to salvage at least half of them. It still wasn't a lot of power, but it was something. "Okay Annie, I need you to key this in for me," he said, handing her the phone. "I'd do it but we probably can't afford a typo right now. W-A; Orange. And then the address of this place, I really hope you remember it because the numbers are a little fuzzy to my memory."

"I got it," Annie assured him, the metallic beeping splitting the air almost shrilly as she typed in the message. "What's the W-A orange mean?"

"Walker, Anderson, code orange," Auggie explained shortly. "Orange is technically a hostage situation but I can't think of the colour code for 'buried alive inside a Cold War bomb shelter beneath an old DC house by Russian drug dealers.' I must have missed that class." Annie laughed, but it sounded quiet and Auggie could tell she was feeling it too; that distant blurriness in their heads from the thin oxygen. "Alright, thread these two wires into the back of the phone, right against those copper patches as securely as you can get them. Use the knife if you have to, just make sure they are in there."

When Annie took the wires from his hands he felt around for the other end of the circuit, left open for the last crucial piece. "And I'm gonna need to use the torch to do this," he said. "I need it to get the charge moving through the circuit. The screen from the phone should stay lit so you won't be completely in the dark though."

"Least of my worries," Annie murmured in reply and he smiled shortly, accepting the torch as she pressed it into his palm. He pried the battery compartment open, felt around until he found the wiring connected to the hand-crank generator, and then carefully wound the line of batteries into it. "Alright, it's finished on my end," Annie said. "What now?"

"I'm going to turn this crank and try to build up enough power for the cellular to reach some sort of outside connection," Auggie explained, his grip tightening unconsciously on the little torch. "You watch the phone. The moment a flicker of a signal reaches it, you press the send button. If we're lucky it should be able to send the message out before any of the pieces of this poor jury-rigged mess give out."

He felt Annie's grim determination in the air, perfectly mirroring his own, both of them trying not to consider the possibility that they wouldn't be lucky. "Ready?" he asked apprehensively.

"Ready," Annie replied solidly.

Nodding shortly, Auggie began churning the handle of the torch as quickly as he could. His wrist was complaining about the awkwardness of the circle as the inner workings of the rechargeable torch ground unsteadily, but he ignored the feeling. All he cared about was the humming noise that it was making, and he hoped that it meant that the machinery was supplying power through the wires to their last hope.

It felt like Auggie's arm would fall off before anything happened, but then suddenly Annie made a short surprised sound that was immediately followed by a dull beep. He kept going, harder than ever before, praying to every god that he had ever heard of and a generalised one to those that he hadn't that this would work. Annie shouldn't have to go like this, trapped like an animal in a cage. He was used to the feeling, being trapped inside the darkness around his body at all times. But not Annie; bright, lively, free Annie. As long as this worked to get her out, that was all he asked for.

"I think it worked," Annie said. Auggie's hand slipped from the torch, letting it fall to the concrete floor with a loud clatter. His entire arm was aching, but it was relief that he felt. "It said 'message sent' and then the screen went black. Do you think it worked?"

"Of course it did," Auggie said, trying to sound confident. "I told you it would, didn't I? That was the plan. The battery just overloaded from the effort of sending, that's all." He took a deep breath that still left him feeling breathless.

"Now what do we do?" Annie asked uncertainly.

"Now we wait," Auggie said simply, easily guarding his own nerves. "The cavalry will be here soon enough." He stretched his sore muscles, biting back a grimace as ignored injuries twinged painfully. "Where was that blanket you were talking about? It'd be nice to get off this concrete."

He could hear fabric shifting and a draft of musty air as Annie spread the blanket across a bare stretch of floor, and then she took his arm and led him to it. She was right, it was rather nice wool. Itchy but thick and warm. He laid down and patted the spot beside him pointedly. A moment later he felt the warmth of a body, even if her hands and forearms and cheeks felt a little too cool for his liking, against his side. It surprised him that she was so close, expecting her to just lay down next to him, but she had curled herself into his side, one arm resting lazily on his chest. Without even considering it, he wrapped his arms around her, bringing her closer.

They were quiet for a while, both of them tense with expectation, even as Auggie's thoughts started drifting off on nonsensical trails he couldn't really follow. And then Annie giggled quietly, prompting him to ask, "What?"

"You know, Aug," Annie started in a slurred voice that showed she was having as hard a time staying lucid as he was, "that thing with the phone and the torch was pretty amazing. You're like – like a blind MacGyver, you know?"

Auggie chuckled appreciatively and could feel her smiling into his shoulder where she'd nestled her face. "Yeah, pretty much," he agreed, too out of it to come up with anything wittier than that.

After some time – they no longer had any way to track the time so he couldn't be sure how long it had been – he felt Annie's body relaxing languidly against his. "I'm getting tired," she murmured and her hand gripped at his shirt for a moment anxiously. "That's bad, right?"

"No, it's fine," he told her, fighting against his own weariness for the time being. "Go ahead and sleep. It'll lower your heart rate so you won't need as much oxygen. Sleep, Annie. I'll wake you up when they get here."

"Promise?" Annie asked with all the hopefulness of a child.

"I promise," he whispered back. She nodded against his chest, and very soon after her breathing slowed and her muscles uncoiled.

_Well, _Auggie thought distractedly, _let's think of it this way. Of all the ways to go, going sleeping with a beautiful girl in your arms ranks pretty high up there_. And he let sleep finally carry him off.

. . . . .

Five days later, Auggie was getting very restless in the hospital room. He had slept for the first two days straight, recovering from a serious case of oxygen deprivation, but even after that had been fixed they had confined him to another few days of bed rest to give what had turned out to be a sprained ankle and two broken ribs time to heal. They'd been feeding him daily reports on Annie's progress, and apparently she'd made it out better than him because beyond one scratch that had needed a few stitches and the lack of oxygen thing, she'd been fine.

He would've been okay with hearing that if he'd actually gotten to talk to her, but he had yet to get any word from his best friend and it was making him extremely antsy.

After spending most of the day planning possible methods of escape to get out of the hospital room and find Annie – none of which he thought he'd actually be able to pull off, even with his skills – he was feeling rather short-tempered. The door opened and he snapped at the nurse, "Unless you're coming to sign my release papers than I don't want to hear it."

"Oh sorry, I'll leave then."

"No, wait," Auggie said hastily, because he knew that voice, and it wasn't the voice of Mary the day nurse. "Annie, that's you?"

"How are you feeling?" she asked and he heard the soft squeak of her trainers on the linoleum floor as she crossed to the bed. He sat up quickly, hesitantly extending a hand, and a glorious sweep of relief filled him when he felt her fingers in his.

"Much better," he said honestly. "If they'd let me out of here I'd be fantastic. How are you?"

"Fine," Annie said and he could hear her smile. "They just released me this morning. I would've come straight here but Joan called me in to be debriefed and then I had to sneak home for a bit to clear up my cover story with Danielle so she didn't start panicking or something." A quiet settled, and then she squeezed his hand. "Joan's really impressed with what you did, you know. I am too. You saved our lives in there. She said if we hadn't gotten that message to them she would've assumed we'd just detoured the plan or that we were already dead. They probably wouldn't have found us until it was too late."

"It – it was nothing," Auggie said, feeling an unusual sense of modesty curling in his stomach, at odds with his normal personality. Somehow it was just harder to be cocky when he was being so sincerely thanked for saving their lives. "Just trying to think on my feet."

"Well it was amazing anyway," Annie said. "And I wanted to get you something to show my thanks."

She took his hand and pressed something into his palm. Curious, he ran his fingers over it and recognised the general shape. "A pocket knife?" he asked in surprise.

"It's _the _pocket knife," Annie corrected. "The one from the fallout shelter, that you used to put all of that wiring together. It was recovered during their rescue and I snuck it out. For sentimental value. And there's something else." She took the knife and laid it in her own palm, and then took his forefinger and laid it against the surface of the plastic. Now that she had brought it to his attention, he could feel a line of familiar raised dots, spelling out an even more familiar word.

_Anderson._

"I figured if you're gonna play MacGyver, you'd best do it right," Annie said with a light laugh.

Auggie curled his hand around the pocket knife, awed at the intense meaningfulness behind the seemingly silly gift. And then he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into a tight hug. "Thanks Annie, this is – it's fantastic," he said honestly. When they broke apart he sat back and fingered the Swiss Army blade, opening and closing each little device.

Then he looked up with a crooked grin that prompted Annie to laugh before he could even say anything. "Just one question," he said and she hummed to show she was listening. "If I'm MacGyver, does that mean I have to grow a mullet?"


	53. Nepenthe

**Nepenthe**: (n.) A drug or drink, or the plant yielding it, mentioned by ancient writers as having the power to bring forgetfulness of sorrow or trouble.

* * *

Annie sulkily nursed the glass in front of her, staring mournfully into the amber liquid and wishing it was actually making her feel better. It had been a long day, she was exhausted, and she wanted nothing more than to sit in the tavern and drink some beers and forget all of her troubles. But for some reason, it just wasn't working tonight. Deep down she knew why.

On a normal night, she would be sitting at one of the little wooden tables with her best friend, drinking their way through the superb beers while his dry sarcasm chased away the darkness. It wasn't the alcohol that made her feel better. It was Auggie. But they weren't speaking anymore. They hadn't spoken in two whole days and it was eating her alive. She would've given in and just apologised to make things better, but he had been purposefully avoiding her and that made her angry with him all over again.

So now she stood up from the bar, leaving her half empty beer glass on the counter. Obviously this wasn't going to work. She tossed a folded bill down beside the glass and left. It was probably for the best that she not get drunk tonight anyway. She had a mission first thing in the morning tomorrow and it would be better if she wasn't hung over while trying to work in such a sensitive mission.

But it'd be a lie if she said she wouldn't miss having Auggie in her ear come tomorrow.


	54. Retrograde

**Retrograde**: (adj.) Having a backward motion or direction; retiring or retreating.

* * *

He has no idea what it is about her that does it to him, but it's an unwavering truth: Annie Walker makes him feel like he's back in middle school.

It's a ridiculous situation, really. He's a grown man, a hardened Army vet, a former CIA operative, and he has so many notches in his bedpost that the thing should look like a toothpick by now. But somehow being around Annie makes him feel like a twelve year old nerd with his first crush again.

He revolves his day around her, and not just when it's his job to. He gets out of bed for work in the morning with a smile, knowing that the sooner he gets to work, the sooner he'll be near her. He finds himself continually adding grapefruit to his grocery delivery list, even though he hardly ever ate them a year ago. He ruefully thinks that if he could see to do it, he'd probably wind up drawing their initials in little hearts all over his scrap papers, he's that much of a dork about this.

And now, more than ever, he feels that same thrill of a juvenile crush. His stomach is twisting in fluttery knots and his heart is pounding almost painfully in his chest. He keeps licking his lips anxiously as he desperately combs his fingers through his hair and prays that it's laying flat since he can't even obsess in front of the mirror over it. He's been pacing a circuit around his apartment for the last half hour, checking and double checking that every detail has been put into place for the evening.

It's not even a real first date – after all, she doesn't even know what she's getting into when she shows up – but he's pretty sure he's never been more nervous for a date in his life. And that's including the time he took head cheerleader Miranda Keller to Homecoming in grade ten. Of course it would be Annie Walker who could turn him into a quivering pile of techno geek at the thought of a simple dinner.

He's just checking on the food again when he hears the familiar knock at his door. It's her. She always knocks the same way; two light knocks, one heavy knock. He swallows hard in an attempt to force his heart out of his oesophagus and back into his ribs where it belongs, smooths his hair and his shirt one last time, and then goes to the door. One last steadying breath to get the nerves off his face –_ c'mon Aug, get it together, it's just Annie_ – and then he twists the lock and pushes the door open.

"Miss Walker," he greets playfully, giving her a characteristic smirk.

"Mister Anderson," she replies in that light, beautiful tone. He feels his smile become more natural, breathing in the smell of her Jo Malone and letting the sweet sound of her voice wash over him. And suddenly he remembers why all of the frantic pacing and the anxious worrying was worth it. Because at the end of the day, Annie is the only person in the world that can make him feel that way and that's what made this so special.

Because every new moment with her feels like falling in love all over again.


	55. Apocopate

**Apocopate**: (v.) To omit the final sound or sounds of (a word.)

* * *

Auggie decided very quickly that Annie was a hilarious drunk. Apparently she found him hilarious too because she'd been giggling almost non-stop for the last ten minutes at least. Who'd have thought big bad Annie Walker was a giggly drunk? He was feeling rather warm and contented himself, but he'd assigned himself to being the responsible one that night. She needed to let loose and forget it all more than he did. Being sober enough to enjoy her antics was just an added bonus.

"Auggie," Annie said, sweet, plaintive, and slurred. "Thank you."

"What for?" he asked, trying not to laugh. She'd thanked him a half hour, two beers, and a shot of Patròn ago too, and when he'd asked her why she'd giggled and said she'd forgot.

Annie hummed thoughtfully for a moment and he wasn't sure whether she'd answer. Then she shifted closer on the couch and laid her head on his shoulder. "You're a real good friend, you know," she murmured. "You're always a real good friend for me, all the time."

She tilted her head and he could tell she was looking up at him now because he could feel her breath on his face. "And you look really good too," she continued with a poorly muffled giggle. "I mean you're nice and funny and sexy and smart all together at once at the same time." Auggie smirked at the redundancy, and at the string of compliments she would've held back if sober. She liked to tell him his ego didn't need any help from her. "You really are memser – mesem – memors –"

"Mesmerising?" Auggie offered, cutting across the continued failed stutters. She collapsed into giggles at herself, lolling against his side as her body shook with mirth. By the time she stopped laughing she had made herself comfortable against him, pinning one of his arms between her and the couch, but he reasoned he wouldn't have much luck with convincing her to move so he left her where she was at.

"Yeah, that," she agreed vaguely and chuckled. Then she let out a loud hum and nuzzled her head into his collar. "I love you, you know."

_She's drunk_, Auggie reminded himself even as his heart leapt in his chest. _She's completely wasted and she has no idea what she's saying._ Still, he was sure she wouldn't remember any of it in the morning, so he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and said, "Love you too, Annie."

"Tha' sounds nice," she muttered but her voice sounded thick and distant. It couldn't have been fifteen seconds later when she was breathing deeply, and snoring ever so lightly. Auggie smirked and extracted his arm from behind her, but before he could try to slip out and make her comfortable on the couch, she had fisted her hands in his shirt in her sleep and he couldn't pry them away. Giving in, he propped his legs up on the coffee table and laid his arm across her shoulders.

He knew he'd regret this in the morning, but for now he was just going to pretend tonight was real.


	56. Lucubrate

**Lucubrate**: (v.) to work, write, or study laboriously, especially at night; to write learnedly.

* * *

Annie let out a heavy sigh and pulled a hand through her hair, wincing as her fingers snagged and made her headache feel worse. She was grateful that the bullpen was empty, and the lights were half-off, casting her into a semi-lit glow. It eased the pounding in between her temples slightly. At least until she looked up at the enormous stack of paperwork spread out across her desk anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Annie dragged the nearest newspaper closer and began reading. Her eyes pored over page after page of cramped Cyrillic print, a highlighter poised in her hand at the ready in case she found anything that might be actionable. She had gotten through four straight pages of articles about current events around St. Petersburg before the words started to blur in front of her eyes. Blinking only fixed the problem for a minute before things would start to waver again. Groaning, Annie let her head fall into her hand.

She wanted to go home. Deep down she wanted nothing more than to climb into her bed in her favourite pyjamas with a cup of cocoa in her belly, and just sleep for twenty-four hours straight. She really did want to. But she couldn't. Couldn't, because every time she closed her eyes he was there and she had to watch her world fall apart again.

Moisture in her palm made Annie lift her head and she quickly wiped at her cheeks, brushing away the frustrated tears that had been pooling along her lashes. No, she didn't need to let herself slip into the pity again. There was nothing good to come of that. What she really needed was a mission. Some elaborate, dangerous mission in a foreign country that she could immerse herself entirely into and escape from DC for a while. Escape from him and everything that had happened.

"It's one in the morning."

Annie jumped at the voice, startled out of her thoughts. She didn't even have to look to know who it was that was weaving through the bullpen towards her. There was only one possible person it could be.

"Auggie, what are you doing here?" Annie asked, trying to sound curious instead of exhausted.

"I was coming to ask you the same thing," he answered. He stopped beside the desk and leaned against the corner. Annie didn't dare look up at him, afraid of seeing the concern in those big brown eyes that she could hear in his voice. "And to inform you that it's one o'clock in the morning. Meaning your workday technically ended about eight hours ago. When I left here six hours ago a pretty blond agent told me she was going to meet me for beers. I came to find out why she stood me up."

"I've got a lot of paperwork to get caught up on," Annie said, shifting several of them around pointedly.

"This isn't paperwork," Auggie said. "This is research. The sort of aimless, stupid research that Joan sticks people on when she doesn't have anything else for them to do. Or to punish them. Nobody does this stuff willingly. Not unless they are really desperate to avoid something."

Annie cleared her throat. "I don't know what you mean," she said evasively.

Auggie's hand crawled across the desk until he found one of hers and then he wrapped his long fingers around hers. "Annie, when was the last time you slept?"

"Last night," Annie said.

Auggie narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I meant through the night. Really slept, not just a little cat nap."

Annie shrugged. "It's been a busy week," she said offhandedly.

Auggie sighed. "I know this has been rough on you. What with Ben blowing back in and everything that happened there. But you have got to give yourself some time to unwind. You need to relax and recover and let yourself deal with all of this. You are running yourself into the ground and it's going to get you hurt, maybe even killed. I've seen a lot of good agents go that way and I can't watch it happen to you, too."

"It's not really your problem," Annie snapped, pulling her hand out of his. Hurt flashed across his face and she instantly felt bad for lashing out. Auggie, however, simply settled his expression into a stern scowl.

"Yes, it is my problem," he said firmly. "Because I'm your handler, and I'm your friend. We are in this together. You've just got to let me help you."

Annie looked up into those expressive dark eyes, full of concern and compassion and care, and she felt something inside of her crack. The walls that she had been building up inside since everything with Ben crumbled with one look from Auggie, and she couldn't fight back the quiet sob that escaped her. Immediately the seriousness slipped from Auggie's face and he searched out her hand again.

"C'mon, let's get you home," he said, tugging her hand gently. Annie climbed unsteadily to her feet, feeling her legs tremble underneath her. Auggie immediately drew her into his side, securing his arm around her waist firmly. "Trust me, those papers will still be there whenever you drag your butt out of bed and come back to work. Which won't be tomorrow, by the way. I already told Joan we're calling in sick tomorrow."

"We?" Annie asked.

Auggie chuckled. "Need I remind you it's one in the morning? I need my beauty sleep too."

Annie hesitated, wondering if asking would be overstepping some sort of boundary. But really in the end, she had to ask. She couldn't face that place yet if she had some other choice. "Auggie, um, I was wondering if maybe you wouldn't mind if I stayed with you tonight. His things, they're still at my house, and I just can't-"

"Not another word, my darling," Auggie said with a soft smile. "There's a bottle of wine and a Mingus CD in my living room with our names on it. We are going to relax in style tonight."

Annie sighed, but this time in contentment. Leaning her head into his shoulder, she let out a breath and felt her muscles already beginning to unwind. It had been a long week, but like always Auggie was there for her in the end, ready with exactly what she needed to recover. She should've known. After all, who in the world knew how to take care of her better than her adorable, booze-bringing St. Bernard best friend.


	57. Umbra

**Umbra**: (n.) the invariable or characteristic accompaniment or companion of a person or thing.

* * *

Annie could think of a million and four ways to describe her best friend. Funny, charming, sarcastic, brave, and frighteningly intelligent were just a few. But of those million and four adjectives, there was one in particular that she associated with him the most, the one that she felt embodied his very existence: _Warm_.

Warmth was in his smile. It was in that soft, understanding twist of his lips, or in that bold, bright playful grin.

Warmth was in his smell. It was in the mingled scents of his cologne and lavender fabric softener.

Warmth was in his appearance. It was in the boyish curl of his hair or the pink patches on his cheeks. It was in the friendliness of his face, in the openness and comfort and cheer.

Warmth was in his eyes. It was in the way they brightened with happiness, or in the way they narrowed with concern. It was in their width and their deep colour and most of all in their beautiful expressiveness.

Warmth was in his voice. It was in the rich baritone, in the melodious sound of his laugh, or in the quiet, controlled worry. It was in the passion of his tone when he talked her through dangerous situations. It was in the way he always knew exactly what to say to make her feel better.

Warmth was in his touch. It was in the gentle grip of his hand in her elbow as they walked together. It was in the affectionate brush of his fingers when he tucked her hair behind her ears when he was comforting her. It was in the secure embrace of his arms when he held her close.

"Annie?" She looked up into those captivating brown eyes. His head was tilted to the side slightly and a line had formed between his eyebrows. "Are you alright? You're being awfully quiet."

Annie smiled and reached out, taking his free hand that was resting on the tabletop. She curled her fingers around his, feeling the heat tingle through her skin at the contact when his rougher fingers returned the grip. "I'm fine, Auggie."

His smile came back instantly, lighting his whole face and seemingly casting a wonderful glow around him. "Good, because as much as I love to listen to myself talk, I love it when you listen to me talk too." Annie laughed and he went back to his story, but he never let go of her hand and she let herself drink in the comfort and companionship that came with the contact and the contentment it formed in her chest.

Because if there was one word she would use to describe Auggie Anderson, it was warm.


	58. Cosher

**Cosher**: (v.) To treat with special fondness.

* * *

Auggie tilted his head and smiled. "Good afternoon, Joan."

"How'd you guess?" she asked with a soft chuckle, coming in and shutting the office door behind her.

"Your perfume," he admitted. "Which smells very nice, by the way. So, what brings you down to my humble fortress today? Am I in trouble again?"

"Relax, Auggie, it's a social visit," she said. He listened to the sound of her heels tapping on the tile as they crossed to his desk and then the rustle of fabric as she propped herself against his desk.

Auggie smirked. "Social visit? Uh oh, now I know I'm in trouble."

"How's Annie doing?" Joan asked with thinly veiled interest. Auggie smiled. She never really bothered to mask her feelings when it was just the two of them, both because she trusted him and because she knew he was far too good at reading emotions to even try.

"Better, I think," Auggie said. "That awful hitch in her breathing is gone and she doesn't wince when she turns anymore. Give her another week to make sure she doesn't hurt herself again and I think she'll be field ready."

"And mentally?" Joan pressed.

"You know Annie," Auggie said with a small smile. "She can rebound from anything."

"What about you?" Joan asked. The lilt in her voice told him that she had reached what she really wanted to talk about now.

Auggie smirked again. "Please, you know how good I am at rebounding."

"Not what I meant," Joan said but he could hear her smile. "You were pretty worked up over that mission. How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," Auggie said and shrugged. "The risks are part of the job. But we got the job done and our agent made it out safe. I'd consider that a triumph."

Joan slid a little closer. "I heard about your breakdown," she said. Auggie winced but tried not to let it show. "None of us have seen you lose it like that since right after you came back from Iraq and floored your poor intern."

"I really hate it when I botch a mission," he said but he knew that there was no way he'd be able to deflect his way out of this conversation. Not if Joan had her mind set on getting answers from him.

"You seem to be losing your cool a lot more since you've started working with Annie," Joan continued as if he hadn't said anything. "No one's known you to get so attached to an agent, even before Tikrit. It seems like you've developed quite the soft spot for her."

Auggie chuckled. "Well if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black."

"It's possible," Joan said evasively. Well at least she wasn't outright denying it anymore. Everyone in the department knew it; if they had pulled even one of the stunts Annie had, they'd have been unemployed in an instant, no questions asked. "Considering all that we've put her through, maybe she deserves a little more understanding."

"Maybe that's all I'm doing too," Auggie said. "Just keeping an eye out for the newbie like you asked me. Metaphorically speaking, of course."

"Just be careful, Auggie," Joan said and her voice had turned slightly maternal. "We all care about Annie, but I don't want to see you get hurt. And if you keep going along trying to ignore your feelings, it's going to wind up causing a lot of trouble for all of us. Especially because you're known for doing rash things for the people you love. Understand?"

Auggie nodded solemnly. "I understand." Joan reached out and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, and then the sound of her footsteps faded away down the hallway. Auggie drummed his fingers against the desktop thoughtfully, mulling over the conversation.

"Hey Auggie." He turned to the voice that had pulled him from his thoughts and felt an unconscious smile appear on his lips.

"Annie darling, what can I do for you?" he asked.

"Allen's after work?" Annie replied hopefully. "I've been stuck on paperwork all day and could really use a beer. I can't wait to get back to fieldwork."

Auggie thought about his own paperwork that he needed to catch up on, as well as a Vietnamese code that needed to be cracked by the end of the week and a mission detail that he had to write up and send on to Joan. Then he smiled and said, "So long as you're driving."

Because hey, who was he to deny the woman who had become everyone's soft spot?


	59. Orison

**Orison**: (n.) A prayer.

* * *

Annie had never been a praying person, but now felt like as good a time as any to start.

The world had quite literally blown apart around her. One minute she had been returning gunfire from behind the shelter of an overturned table, the next minute there had been a ground-shaking explosion from the other side of the warehouse that had sent her flying. Most of the walls had been reduced to rubble and small fires had broken out in clusters of debris. Distantly she could hear screaming but that didn't really register. There was only one thing she could think about: Auggie was in there.

Panicked, Annie picked herself up and tried to regain her bearings. From the walkway above she could hear her mark groaning and she scrambled to find her gun. She finally found it, wedged beneath the cracked remains of the table she'd been hiding behind, and she turned and fired. Her mark let out a yelp and then crumpled. She would worry about him later. There was a more pressing matter somewhere inside of that heap of bricks.

"Auggie!" Annie yelled, picking her way carefully over the treacherous footing. Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw red but further investigation showed her the body of one of their marks. She slipped through the remains of what had once been the doorway into the office area but was now just a slanting opening of fractured wood. The office had been thoroughly destroyed. It was all too clear that this was where the bomb had gone off. Her stomach churned, because this was also the last place she'd known Auggie to be.

"Auggie, answer me!" The smoke in the air was thickening and Annie coughed, feeling her eyes start to sting and water as she squinted through it. A section of wall suddenly toppled, spraying her with pieces of brick. She didn't have much more time to find Auggie and get out before the whole place came down on top of them. In the corner were the twisted, melted remains of an elaborate computer console. That's what Auggie had come in after. She scoured the rubble around it but all she found was another of her dead marks. If they hadn't survived their own attack...

No, she couldn't think like that. He was Auggie. He was invincible, wasn't he? She couldn't possibly have lost him. Dear God, please don't let him be dead.

"Damn it, Auggie!" Annie let out a strangled scream that degenerated into a coughing fit. That stupid idiot, he never should've been in there at all. He was only hear to save her. He had found new evidence after she'd left and when Joan and Arthur hadn't let him call off the mission he had gone off the grid and come halfway across the country after her. When the mission had gone all to hell, he had ducked inside to try and grab the intel that she was supposed to be collecting, even though she'd told him not to. Damn Auggie and his stupid, proud bravery.

Annie had just shoved aside the charred half of a desk when she saw it; a long, jean-clad leg sticking out from beneath a mound of rubble. "Auggie!" she gasped and rushed forward, grabbing the bricks and tossing them away. Please, God, please... She finally exposed the rest of his body, huddled in a tucked away corner of the room. It almost looked like it might have been a closet or a store room at some point before most of the walls had been blasted away. Auggie was loosely curled on the floor, his body twisted at a strange angle. Most of the left side of his face was already discoloured with dark bruising, and there was a deep gash across his forehead that was bleeding badly.

"Auggie, talk to me," Annie said desperately. She tugged off her jacket and balled it up, pressing it against the wound on his forehead. "C'mon Auggie, wake up!" Holding the jacket in place with one hand, her other hand moved down to his throat and found his pulse point. A dizzying wave of relief swept over her when she felt it throbbing beneath her fingertips."Oh thank God..."

"Annie?" She looked up at his face again. Auggie's eyes were squinted against the blood that was dripping down from his forehead but he was clearly awake. "Ugh, I need a drink."

"Let's get out of here first," Annie suggested. "Can you walk?"

"I hope so," Auggie answered hoarsely. "I dunno if my pride could handle being carried out." Annie helped him shift aside the last of the rubble that was around his feet and then hauled him up. He staggered and groaned, leaning heavily onto her to keep himself upright. It was slow moving getting back, since Auggie couldn't see to pick his way through the debris on the ground and he seemed to be having a hard enough time walking to begin with. In the main room Annie found the first available opening and steered them through that. It was like surfacing from underwater when they finally stepped out into the clear air, and Annie took an overcompensating breath that made her almost double-over coughing again.

Taking several steps out into the street, Annie deposited Auggie on the ground and then sat down next to him. Auggie laid down on the asphalt and held the jacket against his head again, wincing at the pressure on his tender skin. "I am so done with bombs," Auggie declared, his attempt at sounding flippant only coming out sounding exhausted. Quite abruptly, Annie reached over and smacked his chest. Auggie groaned and coughed. "What the hell?"

"I told you not to go in there, you idiot," she hissed. She would've preferred to yell and rage at him, but a crowd had gathered and the fire department had just showed up, starting to build a perimeter around the area. She couldn't risk being overheard. Lord knew they were already going to be in enough trouble to begin with. "I told you to stay out of trouble and what do you do? Run head first into a bomb. I thought you were dead."

"But I'm not," Auggie said insistently. He took the jacket with his other hand so the one closest to her could reach out and find her arm, gripping it reassuringly. "I'm fine. And," he suddenly tucked his hand into the pocket of his jeans, and when he pulled it out he was clutching what she recognized as her CIA issued phone, "I got the intel."

"August Anderson, if you ever do that again I will kill you myself." Auggie chuckled weakly. Annie quickly grabbed the phone and stuffed it in her pocket and a second later a paramedic had shown up next to them. They were shepherded into the back of an ambulance and set off for the nearest hospital. Annie sat in the back with Auggie as the medics treated him as well as they could, and she held his hand as the painkillers they'd given him made him drift off, and she sent up one last prayer.

Damn it all if that stupid soldier boy didn't drive her insane, but thank you God for not taking him away from her.


	60. Crotchet

**Crotchet**: (n.) An odd fancy or whimsical notion.

* * *

Auggie had thought she was kidding when she first suggested it. In fact, it wasn't until they had reached their destination and were unloading the car that he really grasped the idea. He and Annie were taking her nieces on an overnight camping trip. He then immediately wondered what on earth he had been thinking when he'd agreed to this.

"You coming?" Annie asked, nudging him with her elbow.

"Honestly, I'm thinking about hiding in the car for the rest of the weekend," he said with a smirk. "I keep imagining all of the horrible things that can happen to a guy like me up here."

Annie chuckled. "Live a little, soldier boy," she said. "Aren't you the one who says to 'laugh in the face of danger?'"

"Lion King!" Chloe crowed excitedly.

Katia made a loud gasping noise. "Ooh, Uncle Auggie, are we gonna see lions up here?"

Auggie laughed, both at the nickname and the question; the girls had taken to calling him uncle recently, even though he and Annie were still just friends. Not that he was opposed to being more than that, but he was being cautious as far as their relationship went. He couldn't screw this up, not with Annie. "Lions in Virginia? I hope not."

"I wish we could," Katia said certainly. "That would be cool."

"Alright, girls, c'mon, let's get this campsite set up," Annie said and shepherded the girls towards the little clearing they'd parked the car next to. Setting up the campsite was an adventure in itself. The girls had argued that Auggie wasn't allowed to just sit around while they worked, so he had been assigned the task of piecing together the fiberglass poles that would hold up the tent. It resulted in a lot of pinched fingers but, if he was honest with himself, Auggie appreciated being able to help out a little.

The day was a whirlwind. Auggie knew that Annie was just trying to keep the girls active to wear them out so they'd sleep at night. Both of them were a little stir-crazy after the long car ride down. All of them took a short hike around the camp, Auggie clinging awkwardly to Annie's arm as he repeatedly stubbed his toes against tree roots or rocks and wishing he'd been able to bring his laser-mapping cane with him since his normal one just wasn't cutting it. Then Annie and Auggie had sat back at the camp, Annie cooking dinner as she set the girls out on the task of collecting fire wood. After dinner of hot dogs and chips, the girls had entertained themselves by finding pine cones to toss in the fire, shrieking and giggling when they popped and hissed. Finally, after roasting marshmallows, the four of them all climbed into the tent for bed.

Auggie lay awake long after the girls had all fallen asleep, just listening to the sounds of nature. It had been a long time since he'd been camping, not counting nights spent sleeping on sandy dunes in Iraq. Probably not since the last time he'd gone with his brothers way back when he was still in high school. He had forgotten how relaxing it could be, smelling the pine and the earth and listening to the sound of the wind in the trees and the singing cicadas.

Chloe was curled up against his side, with Katia above his head since the two had bickered and fought until they'd found a sleeping pattern that let them both sleep near him. Annie was on his other side, and she abruptly rolled over in her sleep, laying her head on his shoulder and nuzzling her nose into the fabric of his tee-shirt. Auggie smiled and leaned his head against hers, breathing in the citrusy scent of her shampoo beneath the lingering smell of the campfire smoke.

Alright, so it might have sounded insane at first, but he had to admit that maybe going camping hadn't been such a bad idea after all.


	61. Brindled

**Brindled**: (adj.) Grey or tawny with darker streaks or spots.

* * *

"Uncle Auggie?" The moment he heard the plaintive, curious tone in Katia's voice he knew that he was in for another one of those conversations that resulted in a lot of awkward questions for him. Gotta love kids. "Why don't you have a puppy dog?"

Next to him Auggie heard Annie hastily try to stifle a laugh. He made a mental note to get her back later. "What do you mean?" he asked patiently.

"Well you're blind," Katia said, slowly like she was making sure he understood her explanation. In amusement, he realised she sounded just like her mother when she was talking to the kids. Apparently in this situation he was the clueless little kid. "Blind people have dogs, right? Big dogs that walk them everywhere since they can't see. So why don't you got one of those?"

Annie was going to suffocate on her own laughter if she kept holding them in like that. Auggie ignored her as he thought up how to answer Katia's question. "Well not all blind people have seeing-eye dogs," he explained. "I don't need one, because I've learned to get around on my own without one. And when I can't get around, your Aunt Annie leads me around."

"Call me your seeing-eye dog and I will bludgeon you," Annie threatened but there wasn't any malice to her voice. Mostly she just sounded like she was still trying not to break her ribs laughing at him.

"Besides," Auggie added as if he hadn't heard her, "my apartment won't let me keep a big dog."

Katia hummed thoughtfully, but apparently she'd accepted his answer because she didn't press him on it any further. The subject was entirely forgotten until later that night when the cab showed up to take Auggie home. He was just about to walk out the front door when Katia yelled, "Uncle Auggie, wait!"

"What's up, Kat?" Auggie asked.

"This is for you," she said and she pressed something into his hand. Curious, Auggie examined it with his fingers. It was soft and it flopped around in his hand as he turned it. He could vaguely make out the shape of a torso with four legs, and a head with two glossy eyes on it. "It's your puppy dog," Katia announced proudly. "He's little and quiet, so your apartment can't make you get rid of him. His name is Rex and he's a real good dog, so he can take good care of you."

Auggie felt something fluttering in his chest and he smiled at the thoughtful gift. "Thanks, Kat," he said, kneeling down and scooping the girl into a hug. "I'll make sure to take real good care of him too." Then he kissed her on the forehead and let Annie lead him down to the waiting cab.

. . . . .

Annie heaved the apartment door open and shouted, "Auggie, you ready yet?"

"I'm coming," Auggie called back from the direction of the bedroom. "Just a second."

Annie walked in and made herself comfortable on the arm of the couch. Looking around, something caught her eye and brought a smile to her face. Hanging over the top of the computer monitor in the corner was a familiar brown and grey speckled stuffed dog, its head looking down over the desk with its felt tongue lolling out.

"Okay, I'm ready," Auggie said, stepping down into the living room with one hand on the wall. "Now where'd you get to?"

"I was just admiring your new computer decoration," Annie said with a laugh.

Pink blossomed in Auggie's ears but he chuckled and shrugged. "He's not much of a seeing-eye dog so I reassigned him to security," he said casually. "Who wouldn't be afraid to touch a computer system guarded by a Beanie Baby, right?"

Annie was beaming as she walked over and nudged Auggie's hand with her elbow. He immediately took the lead and they headed out of the apartment together. As they were climbing into the elevator, Annie laughed and shook her head. "You are such a softie."

Auggie put on his typical self-assured smirk but didn't bother to dispute it.


	62. Abut

**Abut**: (v.) To be adjacent; touch or join at the edge or border.

* * *

Auggie was pretty sure that it was bound to end up this way. If he'd been paying attention to the signs and the signals, he might have figured it out a long time ago. Deep down he thought that maybe he had and just hadn't acknowledged it. Either way, he didn't mind. Pleasant surprises were always welcome in his book. Especially this one.

From the very beginning she'd been there. A hand at his elbow, light and companionable without any of the ordinary hesitation that he felt from other people when they met him for the first time. He knew that his disability was daunting for most people (he tried to avoid the bitter thoughts of how much more daunting it was for him) but with her there had never been any of that. She'd taken it all in stride and then simply moved on to the next page. It had perplexed and fascinated him in equal measure.

It had only continued from there. He could see now, looking back, that it was just as much his doing as anyone else's. He was the one who took her under his wing, making it his sole duty in life to keep her safe and employed. At the time he'd told himself it was simply because that was his job; Joan had asked him to keep an eye out for the new kid and he was just doing what she wanted him to do. The fact that he felt a strange, pulling attraction towards the new agent was just a fabulous bonus, really. But who was he to argue with it? He had few enough good friends to count on (he could add them all up on one hand and still have fingers left over) so he wasn't going to turn away a new possibility.

Introductions and coffees swiftly turned into lunchtime chats and after work drinks. She roped him into her schemes and he went along willingly, quickly growing addicted to the excitement and unpredictability that followed her everywhere. Working with her made him feel alive again in ways he hadn't since his vision had gone dark, and simply being around her filled him with energy and passion for life.

The more time passed, the closer they became. It got to the point where if anyone needed to know where she was, they would ask him, and vice versa. Finding one of them without the other became a very rare sight. Around the office they jokingly became known as the Siamese Twins, attached at the hip and completely inseparable. Wherever one went, the other always followed.

So really, it should've been obvious that they would wind up here. Somewhere along the way it had become impossible to tell where one ended and the other began, and now, well, now that had taken on an even more literal sense. Auggie shifted his leg slightly and felt the two lean calves wrapped around his knee move with him. There was a soft grunt and the head on his bicep moved.

"Auggie?"

"Sorry, Annie," Auggie said, voice barely above a whisper in the quiet bedroom. "Just stretching. Go back to sleep." There was a mumbled agreement and then her head came to rest on his shoulder, tucked into the curve of his neck. Auggie smiled and drew his arms tighter around her, pulling her even closer until they were completely tangled in each other. They had always been close, connected, but tonight they had become one.

And honestly, even the blind guy could've seen it coming.


	63. Xenogenic

**Xenogenic**: (n.) To be completely different from either parent, or from the source of an object's creation.

* * *

Sometimes Auggie had a horrible time believing that she was actually theirs.

All of his life, Auggie had done everything he could to be included in the action. He'd learned from a young age how to fight for attention and how to get it without being obnoxious about it. It was a necessary skill for the youngest and smallest of five boys, and although she would never admit it, it had made him his mother's favourite son. He wasn't overly loud, but he was opinionated and not afraid of being vocal about it. He had mastered charm and charisma by the time he hit his teen years and he gladly used them in equal measure. All in all, he knew exactly how to make his presence known.

Then there was Annie. She was a whole other book entirely. While Auggie had worked to put himself into the action, the action always seemed to just follow her. Everywhere she went, excitement and intrigue came after. Not to mention people. There was something bright and approachable in her personality that just drew people to her like a magnet. She was never afraid to throw herself into the middle of things - in fact she made a habit of it - and she was involved in everything. She was the exact opposite of an introvert.

So there were times when Auggie just didn't understand how two such extroverted people had given birth to such a quiet, calm child. He heard constantly how she looked just like him, with her brown curls and dark eyes, and he could hear how her voice had a similar sweet lilt to it like her mother. But sometimes he wondered if maybe the hospital had made some sort of mistake bringing them their kid.

Shaking his head, Auggie turned the page in his book and then his other hand crept across the couch cushion beside him. He'd left a plate of Oreo cookies sitting there to munch on. His brow furrowed. He could've sworn he'd put them right there, near the remote. His hand ran across the cushion several more times and then he frowned. He had brought them out with him, he thought. He knew his memory was starting to slip a little but it couldn't be that bad, could it?

Then he heard it; a quiet giggle and a crunch. His eyes widened. "Alexandria," he said, twisting toward the noise from behind the couch. "Did you steal my cookies?"

Alexandria let out a little squeak and then he heard her feet pattering away over the carpet, heading for the safety of her bedroom. Laughing, August tossed aside his book and chased after her. He caught her around the waist in the middle of the hallway and she gave a muffled squeal as she squirmed in his arms. "Lexi, where'd my cookies go?" he asked in playful rage.

"I dunno," Lexi said innocently, her breath heavy with the smell of chocolate.

"You ate them all, didn't you?" Auggie asked, fighting back his laughter with difficulty. Lexi didn't answer, just giggled as she twisted around in his arms, trying to escape. "You little stinker." Auggie tickled her sides until she fell over on the carpet, giggling and shrieking. "What should I do with you, you cookie monster?"

"I love you, Daddy!" Lexi shouted back, still trying to wiggle away from his hands. "I love you!"

"Oh do you?" Auggie asked, shaking his head.

Lexi's only answer was another squealed, "Love you Daddy."

Auggie rolled his eyes but he let up on the tickling. Lexi was still giggling as she rolled away and stood up. Then she turned and tore off through the house again, yelling, "Momma, Daddy picked on me!"

"Why you little!" Auggie said and took off after her again. That little brat had pulled the 'love you' card to get away, and now she was going to go tattle on him. That was such a cruel, evil little trick - and it sounded exactly like something he would've done.

He changed his mind immediately; Alexandria Joan Anderson was definitely his kid.


	64. Jujitsu

**Jujitsu**: (n.) The ability to accomplish a task with no apparent effort or resistance.

* * *

He made it all look so easy.

Annie was sitting on the couch, watching as he moved around the kitchen. He was in the middle of making dinner for them, insisting that Annie relax and enjoy her wine while he did all of the work. Three different pots or pans were cooking at the same time and he seemed to be jumping between them steadily like it was some sort of choreographed dance; stir a pot, slice some vegetables, tip them into the pan, simmer the sauce, add seasonings to the other pot.

All of it made Annie's brain whirl. She was adept at a great many things, but cooking was not one of them. That had always been Danielle's forte. She had known for a while now that Auggie was a talented cook - his fettuccine alfredo was to _die _for - and somehow that hadn't surprised her. After all, he had a very acute sense of both smell and taste. It made him a fairly picky eater and she imagined that because of it he had started to learn to make foods better. What she hadn't ever really counted on before was just how well he moved.

Auggie was a well adjusted man. That was something that Annie had picked up on within the first few minutes of their meeting. He knew how to carry himself and how to move, never giving away signs of how difficult it was for him. When they were in familiar places, like his office or the apartment, he walked around without any hesitation because he already knew where everything was - unless of course Barber had moved furniture. Or that one time that Annie had left her shoes on the floor by the bed.

Watching him in the kitchen was something else entirely. He moved with grace and flair, like there was absolutely no difficulty to the matter at all. Annie couldn't even slice vegetables without nearly taking off her own fingers, but Auggie did it without being able to see the knife at all. He never once burned himself or dropped anything. Annie was quite certain that her boyfriend was superhuman.

Auggie set down the spoon he'd been using and paused thoughtfully. Then, abruptly, he tugged off his shirt and tossed it aside.

"What are you doing?" Annie asked, torn between gaping and laughing at the ridiculousness of the action.

Auggie shrugged, going back to his cooking with a playful smirk on his face. "Well you were staring so intently, I figured I may as well give you a show."

And if dinner hadn't turned out so damn delicious, Annie might have hit him for being a smart ass.


	65. Sabbatical

**Sabbatical**: (n.) Any extended period of leave from one's customary work, especially for rest, to acquire new skills or training, etc.

* * *

Auggie slid the apartment door open and was immediately greeted by a sigh of relief. "Don't sound so excited to see me," he said with a laugh, locking the door behind him. "I'll think you actually like me or something."

"I'm just glad you're home," Annie said from the direction of the couch. "I've been bored out of my mind all day."

"Oh I see, you just keep me around for entertainment value," Auggie said, raising an eyebrow.

"And to get me a juice from the fridge?" Annie said, a plaintive tone to her voice. Auggie laughed again but obligingly grabbed a juice bottle on his way to join her on the couch. "Thanks. So how was your day?"

"Just another usual day in the life of me," Auggie answered. When he'd settled in on the couch Annie instantly laid her legs across his lap. Without even thinking about it, he took up one of her feet and started kneading it with his fingers. She let out a quiet hum of appreciation. "Deciphered some codes, annoyed the hell out of Jai, detailed a mission log, beat my high score on solitaire. Same ol' same ol'. Apart from the obvious lack of a lunch time companion any way. Dare I ask how your day was?"

"Unbearable," Annie whined dramatically. Auggie bit his lip to hold back a smile. "I've had nothing to do all day. Dani was catering a wedding so she couldn't come keep me company, so I've just been sitting around the apartment all day by myself."

Auggie switched his hands from her left foot to her right. "You really need a hobby," he remarked idly. Annie slapped his shoulder.

"I tried to keep myself busy but nothing worked," she groaned. "I tried to read, but then I'd get uncomfortable sitting down. So I'd get up and walk around, and then I'd get tired and sore. I could never get comfortable doing anything. I should've just gone into work, at least then I could've been doing something productive."

"Joan would've have let you past the front doors and you know it," Auggie said.

"I feel like I'm on lockdown or something," Annie moaned and he heard her head fall back on the arm of the couch.

At this Auggie couldn't hold back a laugh. "You're not being punished, Annie, you're on maternity leave."

"I don't see why that means I can't even go into the office and, you know, do paperwork or anything," she said sulkily. "I hate just sitting around and being useless."

"You can't go into the office because you are due in four days, meaning that that little baby is going to be coming any day now," Auggie said. "And the last thing I want is my baby being born in the bullpen. Not to mention I'm pretty sure the janitorial staff would kill us both. That is why you are sitting at home, resting."

Annie sighed heavily, but this time it was a sigh of resignation. "Yeah, I know." She tugged on his shoulder and Auggie laid down with her on the sofa, pulling her back against his chest. His hand found its way to the prominent curve of her stomach and rested there against her skin. A second later Annie's hand joined his. "I guess I'm just tired of waiting. You know how much waiting stresses me out."

"Don't worry about it," Auggie said. "If our little baby is as trigger-happy as you, this'll be over in no time." Annie chuckled and he felt her relaxing. "And once our baby comes, neither one of us is ever going to want to leave this apartment again. Well, except maybe to get a full night's sleep."

Annie's head turned and he felt her press a kiss into his cheek. "I know," she said again. "Maybe we should get caught up on our sleep now then. I am kind of tired." Auggie smiled, feeling her muscles uncoiling as she snuggled into him on the couch. He pulled the throw blanket down over the top of them and then settled in for a quick nap, something that had become almost ritual since Annie'd entered her third trimester.

Just as Auggie was starting to drift off, he felt a flurry of motion beneath his palm. Their baby was shifting around again. Auggie kept his palm flat there until the movement stopped, and then he laid back with a smile. Just a few more days and he'd get to hold their baby for real. Just a few more days.

If he was honest, he was more than ready for the wait to be over too.


	66. Attenuate

**Attenuate**: (v.) To weaken or reduce in force, intensity, effect, quantity, or value.

* * *

Annie was furious. She hadn't been this irate in a very long time, and with the way she felt she wouldn't be calming down any time soon either. It was like the entire world around her had gone shades of red and white. She paced a line back and forth across the living room floor. For a minute she was tempted to put on her shoes just for the satisfaction of the noise they'd make, but she reasoned in her rage she'd probably just break an ankle and then have one more thing to be pissed about. So she stuck with marching from the stereo to the armoire in her bare feet.

After everything she'd done, and everything she'd been through for them... She wanted to scream. Instead she just growled in frustration and tossed her hair angrily. When had it become a bad thing for her to do her job? When had protecting her assets become a punishable offence? Annie wanted nothing more than to pick up the phone and give those seventh-floor suits a piece of her mind. She would've if she could have found her phone anyway. She must have misplaced it when she came home.

"Babe, dinner's ready." Annie stopped pacing and looked up to see Auggie weaving his way to the couch, a steaming plate of lasagne in each hand. He sat down on the couch and waited for her to join him before he handed her one of the plates. From beneath his arm he pulled two bottles of beer, and they settled back to enjoy their dinner. Even though Annie was irate, she couldn't help but love the dinner. Lasagne was her favourite.

Neither of them spoke while they were eating, although Auggie occasionally started humming to himself in between bites. It was a comfortable, peaceful quiet. Annie found it was getting harder to keep her rage boiling when he was so relaxed. How was he so relaxed anyhow? When they'd finished eating he took their dishes to the sink and then came back to the couch. He laid an arm around her shoulders and Annie didn't need any further prompting to lean into his side. Auggie continued to hum random bars as his fingers traced over her shoulders, rubbing the tensed muscles. Annie sighed in relief and slumped further into him, her eyes drifting shut.

"Welcome back," Auggie said with a quiet chuckle.

Annie made a noncommittal noise. She didn't want to admit that the towering rage she'd been in for the majority of the afternoon had somehow miraculously dissipated in just a matter of minutes. Auggie smirked and kept rubbing at her shoulders, and with each circle Annie relaxed even more. Within about fifteen minutes Annie was half-dozing, curled up against him on the couch. She had no idea how he did it, but she was pretty sure he was magical.

"I'm mad at you," Annie informed him without any real conviction.

"Oh yeah?" Auggie asked, humouring her.

"Yes," Annie said. "I was all pissed off, and I had a really good reason to be. And then you come in and just made it all disappear like it didn't matter. So I'm mad at you."

Auggie shrugged. "That's alright," he said casually. "I know how to make your forget about that too." And when he captured her lips, she really did forget.

_Damn him._


	67. Catawampus

**Catawampus**: (adj.) Off-centre; askew; awry.

* * *

Annie rolled her eyes as her daughter fidgeted her head around beneath her fingers. "Lexi, would you hold still?" she asked.

"But you're doin' 'em wrong," the six-year old whined, meeting her mother's eyes in the mirror. "They don't match."

"They do too," Annie argued, leaning back to survey her daughter's pigtails critically. "They look fine."

"No, they're lop-sided," Lexi said flatly. "See, that one's higher."

Annie sighed and leaned back in her chair, trying to see what her daughter was talking about. She had to admit that she'd known it was going to end up like this. The pigtails were perfectly fine, but it always ended this way. "Alright, fine, go get your dad to do them then," Annie said, throwing up her hands in surrender.

"Okay," Lexi said brightly and jumped up, running off toward the office attached to the living room. Fifteen minutes later Auggie followed Lexi out of the room. Her pigtails were uneven but she was beaming as she scurried off to play with her younger brother.

"Those were so lop-sided," Annie said, watching their daughter through the window as she raced around the backyard. Three-year-old Aaron stumbled awkwardly behind her on his chubby little legs.

"I thought they were pretty decent," Auggie answered with a shrug, a knowing smile on his face. "What can I say, she just prefers my pigtails to yours."

Annie snorted. "Yeah, because she's a total daddy's girl," she said.

Auggie grinned. "Chin up, babe, jealousy doesn't sound good on you," he said playfully.

"Oh don't worry, I'll survive," Annie said. "I've already gotten my revenge." Auggie's eyebrows lifted curiously. "I just texted a picture of you doing your daughter's hair to all our friends at work. I'm sure they'll have plenty of jokes to go around."

"Harsh!"


	68. Aphorism

**Aphorism**: (n.) A terse saying embodying a general truth, or astute observation.

* * *

Auggie tipped back the glass of Patròn, relishing in the way it burnt its way down his oesophagus. There was a faint throbbing in his forehead that had absolutely nothing to do with the alcohol and he was trying desperately to drown it out. At the same time, some dark, masochistic part of his mind was telling him that he deserved it.

_"Annie, would you wake up!"_

The words burned in his brain as strongly as the tequila did his throat. He regretted the words the moment they had left his mouth, but there was no way to just magically suck them back in. What was said was said and there was nothing he could do about it.

_"He's not coming back. He's working you, just like he always has. Like he always _will_."_

As much as he hated himself for saying it, it didn't change the fact that it was all the truth. She needed to hear it. He hadn't wanted it to come from him, but no one else was going to take a stand with her on this. It wasn't the business of anyone else from work. If Joan said it, it would come across as a command and Annie didn't respond well to authority in her personal life. Danielle was the only other one who might have been able to get through to her, but she didn't know the whole story. So it had fallen to him, to Auggie.

_"Why do you keep doing this to yourself? You know it's always going to end like this!"_

He had tried so hard to be reasonable. To be the same voice of reason she always relied on to keep her head above water during missions. He had tried to only be the concerned best friend. It hadn't worked well.

_"God, what is it about this guy that makes you so naive?"_

Somewhere, during her impassioned defence of the man who had broken her heart time and again, Auggie had snapped. He just hadn't been able to take it anymore.

_"It is killing me watching you do this to yourself!"_

And it was. Watching her offer up her heart and soul over and over to a guy who played it until his attention was diverted to something more exciting, it made his own heart break. She was so beautiful and perfect, and she deserved someone who was going to understand and respect that fact. She needed someone who wouldn't hurt her. Someone who cherish her. Someone to love her. Someone like... No, he couldn't go there.

_"There is no future with Ben. You know that."_

Deep down, he was sure that she did know it too. She was too smart to think that it would ever work out between them. He was a Ghost. To the rest of the world he no longer existed. Auggie wished, more than anything, that Ben Mercer didn't exist to her anymore either.

_"Give it up and move on."_

Auggie tipped back another glass of tequila. The pounding in his skull was only getting worse. He leaned back into the sofa with a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He already knew, by the lightness of the bottle that he was drinking from, that he was going to feel infinitely worse tomorrow. It was a small favour it was the weekend. More time to recover from the hangover. It was also a curse. More time to brood over the disastrous confrontation. He would be lucky if he still had a best friend come Monday after what had happened that afternoon.

_"He doesn't love you, Annie."_

Not the way she deserved at least. The unspoken conclusion to that sentence, five words that had been on the tip of his tongue but had never made it any further, was humming around inside of his brain. That, _that _was the source of the agonising headache that was beating against the inside of his head. A truth unsaid; a secret kept. They were eating at him from inside, making him nauseous, until he finally had to speak them aloud. He closed his eyes and whispered them to the lonely apartment and the half-empty bottle of Patròn:

"Not the way I do."


	69. Haw

**Haw**: (v.) To utter a sound representing a hesitation or pause in speech.

* * *

If there was one thing that August Anderson prided himself on - not that there was only one thing he prided himself on, of course - it was his way with words. He had always been a master at taking words and making them work for him. Even as a little kid he had always had the right words. It had saved his ass a lot as a little kid. While his older brothers had all been big and brawny, he'd been the nerdy, wiry kid and smooth talking had gotten him out of a lot of rough situations. Not to mention he'd been good at charming their mother into believing his stories more than the ones his brother's told.

It had proved to be one of his strongest skills in working for the CIA as well. No one in the department could charm their way into an asset's trust quite like Auggie Anderson. He learned quickly how to read people and then find exactly the right thing to say to win them over. He could talk his way out of a hostage situation, distract an enemy into letting down their guard, or gain the trust of a mark in a matter of seconds. With one smile and a handful of words, he became the best in the business.

Words had also been his saving grace when he'd come back from Iraq with scars on his body and bandages over his damaged retinas. He used them to level the playing field between himself and the sighted people he dealt with on a day-to-day basis. Just because he couldn't see people anymore didn't mean he was any less talented at understanding them. With a few words, he could build them up or take them down.

Yes, Auggie Anderson had always been eloquent. At least up until this moment when the English language failed him entirely. Or maybe he failed it.

"Annie, I always knew it, from the very start. I mean from the minute we met I knew you were important. Important to me, I mean. You're important in a lot of ways, but especially to me. I can't imagine living without you anymore. I couldn't stop loving you even if I tried. Er, not that I'm going to try, of course." Auggie wanted nothing more than to pick up something very heavy and bash it against his own forehead.

"Auggie, are you okay?" Annie asked, putting a light hand on his arm. He could hear the genuine concern in her voice. Wow, she actually sounded worried. Did he sound like that much of a prat?

"No, obviously not," Auggie said with a forced laugh. "I've made a total mess of this. Uh, let me start over?" He cleared his throat and tried not to faint from embarrassment. "Annie, I love you. More than you can ever imagine. And I don't want to even think about spending another day away from you for the rest of my life. So..." He reached into his pocket and drew out the square velvet box.

It turned out he didn't even have to actually ask the question. The moment he'd opened the lid of the box, Annie had gasped and then firmly planted her lips on his. It was a full ten minutes later before he even got around to putting the ring on her finger, after which they almost immediately returned to an entirely non-verbal celebration of their engagement.

Auggie might not have been the greatest wordsmith that night, but it turned out that when it came down to it, sometimes words just weren't necessary.


	70. Deciduous

**Deciduous**: (adj.) Falling off or shed at a particular season, stage of growth, etc.

* * *

Auggie had never been a huge fan of summer. As a kid it had meant humid Illinois weather that left him plastered in sweat and out of breath from dusk until dawn. It had also meant the end of school, which was a sad thing to him. He liked school. It was the place where he excelled above all of his siblings. Not to mention it was the one place where he didn't have to always be on his guard in case one of said siblings decided to launch a sneak attack on him. As far as Andersons went, he'd always been the main target.

His dislike of summer never really changed as he grew up. When he enlisted it meant spending his summers on the base in between terms of school. In Iraq summer had been just turning up the temperature in a place that was already hot and dry as hell. It had been summer when he'd raced down from the roof of a building in Tikrit after seeing an insurgent throw a bomb beneath the humvee. It had still been summer when he'd woken up in a crushing darkness that wouldn't lift.

Now, as a blind man, summer meant something entirely different. His observations about people around him were based on his hearing. He listened to the sound of footsteps and the rustling of fabrics and the cadence of voices. Summer meant heat, and heat meant sparser clothing. The less clothing people wore the more he could hear the sound of skin rubbing on skin; bared arms brushing as people passed each other, and worst of all the soft sound of legs rubbing together as women in shorts and skirts and dresses walked. It was worst out in public places, but it had invaded the office as well. Pant suits were replaced with looser, lighter dresses. Everywhere he went he kept hearing the sound of warm skin on warm skin.

It was, to say the least, horribly distracting.

So why on earth he had allowed himself to be talked into this he had no idea. Really, it was a recipe for disaster. He spent all summer trying to avoid being around the sound of hot, moving bodies, and then he let himself be dragged to a beach. Of all the stupid, idiotic things to do. When he'd gotten the call that the Brooks' were going to the beach for the day, he had agreed without hesitation. What had happened to his brain?

"C'mon, Auggie, the girls are already halfway to the water by now," Annie said teasingly. Oh right, Annie Walker had happened to his brain.

"I'm coming," Auggie said, waving a hand flippantly. He had barely climbed out of the car and his tee-shirt was already feeling stifling, sticking to his skin between his shoulder blades. He stretched out his hand and found her shoulder. It surprised him that it was bare. She had been wearing a tee-shirt when they'd left his apartment. She must have stripped down to her bathing suit now that they were at the beach. Curious, he brushed his fingers over her shoulder but found no cords or straps or strings. He didn't find a scrap of material until midway down her back, where he found the narrow band that must have wrapped around to cover her chest.

By God, that was a lot of bare skin. Very nice, smooth, sun-heated bare skin.

Auggie swallowed hard and felt like maybe he would need to go wade waist-deep into that very cold ocean water here soon. As she led him out into the sand, he tried very hard not to pay attention to the faint, whispering sound of her thighs as they brushed each other. It was a very soft sound, which meant lean, muscular thighs. _Oh sweet Jesus..._

Summer was going to be the death of him.


	71. Aporia

**Aporia**: (n.) Difficulty determining the truth of an idea due to equally valid arguments for and against it.

* * *

Auggie slid down to sit on the floor. His legs had been shaking so badly he just didn't have it in him to stay standing any longer. This couldn't have happened. It didn't make sense. He was tempted to grab his phone and redial just to hear it again. To make sure that he hadn't misunderstood, or that it wasn't just some sick joke. That would be so like his brothers. He had actually picked up his phone and opened it before changing his mind and letting it fall to the floor beside him.

What was the point? As much as he wanted to believe it was just some twisted sort of joke, he knew that it wasn't. Abigail had been the one to call him. She might have a vicious sense of humour, but she would never play that sort of joke. She had more compassion than that. No, this was real. It had actually happened.

He needed to call Joan. He'd have to let her know that he needed a few days off work. After that he needed to call the airline and book a flight. Then he needed to pack some things for the trip and get everything sorted out so he would be free to leave by Thursday. It was all so much, so fast.

Dragging himself to his feet, Auggie staggered over to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Really he needed something stronger than a Guinness but that would have to wait until after all of the plans had been made. He drank half of the bottle in one go and then let himself lean against the kitchen island, steadying himself on his feet.

Across the room the phone sudden let out a sharp jingle, and then a robotic voice announced, "Annie Walker." Auggie hesitated. She was supposed to be coming over for a movie night now that she was back from Turkey. As much as he wanted to see her, he didn't want to see her like this. Not when he was one trip down memory lane away from a complete emotional breakdown. But unless he answered the phone and told her so, she would show up on his doorstep with a box of pizza and expecting a Bourne marathon. The problem was solved for him when the phone went silent.

Taking his beer with him, Auggie went over to the couch and collapsed into the cushions. He felt exhausted, and he hadn't even done anything yet. It was like the phone call from his sister had drained all of the life right out of him. He closed his eyes - despite the fact that it made no difference to his surroundings, it was comforting to him - and tried to clear his head. It did nothing to keep the swell of memories at bay.

Some time later the sound of his front door grinding open made Auggie jump. A second later he heard a familiar set of footsteps and smelled the cheese and grease scent of hot pizza. "You didn't answer the phone so I picked the toppings," Annie announced. Auggie could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He couldn't do this, he couldn't face it. Annie steps suddenly halted. "Auggie, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," Auggie said and he turned away from her. He blinked and was alarmed to feel warm wetness on his cheeks. He hastily swiped away the tears with the back of his hand. Like Annie would fall for that... She half-jogged across the apartment and he felt the couch cushions dip as she sat down beside him. "It's just - it's some family drama."

He flinched in surprise when he felt warm fingertips brush a curl away from his forehead. "Auggie, I've known you for almost a year now and I've never seen you look so upset before," she said gently. "What happened? You know you can talk to me."

Auggie weighed his options. If he shook her off, she wouldn't push him. She would be curious but Annie knew how to respect his privacy and she would wait until he was ready to tell her. He would tell her eventually, he was sure of that. She was his best friend. He couldn't keep secrets from her for long. But was he ready to talk about this just yet? He'd only found out a few hours ago. He hadn't even quite fully processed it himself. He didn't know if he was ready to face up to those emotions and realities just now.

A soft hand wrapped around his own and Auggie felt something in his chest snap. His breathing shallowed and he realised that he was close to tears again. This was ridiculous. Captain August Anderson didn't cry. But in that single moment he also realised something very important; he couldn't do this alone.

Summoning up a deep breath, he said, "My brother died."

And for the rest of the afternoon, Annie simply sat beside him and held his hand and listened to him talk. He told her about how no one had seen it coming. How of all his brothers, Adam was the least likely one to go so early. If it had been him, the army special ops agent, or Andy the police officer, then it might have made sense. But Adam, the junior high history teacher? But in one rainy morning drive to work, he was gone.

Annie didn't say much, just listened. She gave no hints that she had noticed the occasional tear that coursed down his cheek, or the sporadic shudders that rocked his body when his breathing became tight. She was simply there for him, holding his hand. She held his hand as he talked, and as he called Joan and the airline, and as he packed his bags. And four days later when he boarded Delta flight 1182 to Chicago, Illinois, she was there too, just holding his hand and being there for him.


	72. Stonewall

**Stonewall**: (v.) To block, stall, or resist intentionally.

* * *

No, this time he wasn't going to just back down. He wasn't going to step aside and let it happen this time. No, he was going to stand his ground.

"Please?"

Auggie clenched his jaw and shook his head. "I said no," he said firmly. He wasn't going to let himself be cajoled. He was the great August Anderson, army spec ops and CIA extraordinaire. So when he said no, that something was not going to happen, he meant it, by damn.

"Pretty please?"

And no amount of sweet talking was going to change his mind. No, she could be as cute and pleading and adorable as she wanted, but it wouldn't change anything. He shook his head resolutely.

"The answer is still no."

"Please?" This time the question was punctuated with a quick kiss that tasted of strawberries. Arms wrapped around his neck and he felt a nose nuzzling into his collar. There was a soft sigh. "Please? I love you."

Auggie closed his eyes and bit back a groan. Damn it... "Alright, fine," he said with a sigh of defeat. "You win. But this is the last one."

"Yay!" The arms around his neck disappeared as she jumped up. "Thank you Daddy."

"Yeah, yeah," Auggie said but he couldn't completely hide his smile at his daughter's enthusiasm. "Which movie do you want to watch?"

"Fishies!" Lexi cheered and the DVD case was pushed into his hand. Auggie didn't even have to double-check the Braille label on the side of the case to know what that meant.

"_Finding Nemo_ it is," he said and slipped the movie into the player. When he was done he settled back down in his armchair and Lexi promptly climbed back into his lap, making herself comfortable against his chest.

As the movie began playing, Auggie leaned his head back and listened. Over two decades of military and CIA training, and all of that went down the drain with one little three year old girl.

Yeah, that was something to be proud of.


	73. Futilitarian

**Futilitarian**: (adj.) Believing that human hopes are vain and unjustified.

* * *

What was the point?

Annie curled herself into a tighter ball, dragging the blankets over her head until she was hidden completely in her own little cocoon. She didn't want to deal with the outside world anymore. There wasn't much point in it. All it ever did was find new ways to hurt her.

What was the point in having hopes? It never did anything except tear her down. She didn't have enormous expectations. She wanted the same standard things that it seemed like everyone wanted; a job, a life, a family, and love. So why was it so hard for her to find it? What had she done to deserve to have her dreams dashed over and over again?

She had a family, although on some days it didn't feel like it. She had to lie to them at every turn, about her job and her friends and why she was gone so often and why she came home with stitches and bruises. Her own sister, whom she had been inseparably close with since she was born, had to be kept at arm's length at all times. And her sweet little nieces who loved her and looked up to her, even though Annie kept missing birthday parties and class programs and dance recitals.

As for love, she was quite certain that that was beyond her. She'd loved once. Loved a man for three glorious weeks, and then he'd left her without so much as a good-bye. Ben Mercer had shredded her life apart as much as he'd shredded her heart. Since that moment she'd spent so much time feeling torn between two sides of her mind. She knew that what she had felt with Ben was real, and she could even see it in his eyes that he meant it too. At the same time he blew in and out of her life like a tropical storm and left nothing but destruction and heartache in his wake.

Why couldn't she just be with the man she loved? A man who loved her? It seemed like all of her dreams were for nothing. She couldn't have what she wanted. Life was doing a wonderful job of making sure of that. Every time that she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she would be able to have what she wanted so badly, it was snatched away from her and left her a peg below where she'd started.

And now, to top it all off, it had cost her her best friend. She wanted to be mad at Auggie, furious for the way he'd treated her and the things he'd said, but she couldn't. Because really, how could she be? He hadn't asked for all of this, to be sucked into the drama of her and her romantic whirlwind. He had been nothing but supportive and protective and encouraging to her through every up and down that she had faced. She had never asked for any of that but he had given it so readily. She should've known that his generosity could only hold out for so long.

Some deep dark part of her felt that she deserved everything that he'd said to her too. She wanted so desperately to believe that things could work out between her and Ben. She wanted to think that they had a future and a chance at love and happiness. Despite all of the evidence to the contrary, she still wanted to believe it. And that belief had ruined the greatest friendship she had ever known.

For a moment Annie thought wistfully of the bottle of Chardonnay that she'd left sitting on the end table when she'd dragged herself into bed. It would feel so much nicer to be able to drown away her sorrows with the sting of alcohol. But to get to it, she'd have to get out of bed and she wasn't ready to do that just yet. So instead, she wrapped herself tighter in her blankets and let herself drift off into a fitful sleep.


	74. Patois

**Patois**: (n.) Any jargon or private form of speech.

* * *

Stu and Greg watched the conversation going on in front of them in awe. Greg was actually still holding his sandwich just inches below his mouth, so distracted by the talk that he forgotten entirely about his lunch. Across the cafeteria table, Annie and Auggie were engaged in an animated conversation and to be quite frank, the tech boys didn't understand a word of it.

"No, no, no," Annie said, shaking her head firmly. "No, it was more like that one time, you know, with the thing..."

"Oh right," Auggie agreed suddenly. "Yeah, I remember. With the guy, who had that voice."

"Yeah, that one," Annie said enthusiastically. "What about that one guy, not that one but the other one."

"You mean the one with the cat? Or the one with the pies?" Auggie asked curiously.

"The second one," Annie answered.

"Isn't he the one who drove that car?" he asked.

Annie giggled. "Oh yeah, the little blue one with the horn. Oh do you remember-?"

"The bald guy," Auggie finished for her and both of them burst out laughing.

Stu and Greg exchanged amazed looks. Annie and Auggie had simply gone back to their lunches as if the conversation they'd been having wasn't totally insane. A few minutes later the pair of them started up again in that broken sentences way of talking, finishing each others sentences and understanding stories and descriptions that made absolutely no sense at all. With one last significant look, both of the younger tech boys made excuses to leave and they headed out of the cafeteria.

"That was weird," Stu said, glancing back over his shoulder to where the agent and her handler were still chatting away.

"No kidding," Greg said, eyes wide. "It's like they've got their own little language or something. Or really, it's like they were talking telepathically. There's no way anyone can be so in tune with another person to pick up a description off 'that bald guy.' It's kind of creepy."

Back at the lunch table, Auggie listened until the sound of footsteps had passed beyond earshot and then he doubled over laughing. Annie joined him, leaning her hand against his shoulder to keep herself from slipping out of her chair. "Think we freaked them out?" Auggie asked as soon as he was able to breathe regularly again.

"Oh they were definitely freaking," Annie assured him. She grinned and picked up her drink, taking a swallow to soothe her throat which was dry from laughing so hard. "By the way, do you actually remember-?"

"The bald guy?" Auggie finished. "Of course I do, how could I forget? It was from right before that other time, with the guy who liked-"

"Humus," they said together, and then as calmly as ever went back to their lunches.


	75. Sublimate

**Sublimate**: (v.) In psychology, to direct the energy of a primitive impulse into activities that are considered to be socially more acceptable.

* * *

Breathing heavily, Auggie stepped down off the treadmill. He grabbed the towel he'd left on the handrail and used it to wipe away the thick layer of sweat from his face and neck, and then gulped down half of his water bottle. He'd pushed himself a lot harder than he normally did and he was feeling it now. And he'd definitely be feeling it by the end of the day when his leg muscles would be stiff as hell.

Auggie shook his head and wound the familiar path to the punching bags. The run hadn't managed to clear his head completely so he'd have to resort to something else. Lining himself up with the bag, he swung out and felt the satisfying thump as his fist collided with padded leather. It sent a ripple effect up his arm, the muscles contracting at the impact. With a grim smile, he settled into a fighting stance and started up with pre-programmed patterns he had used for years.

It had been an exhausting night that led him to burning off tension in the CIA gym hours before the work day began. He had been woken in the early hours of the morning by an unusual dream. No, if he was honest with himself, it wasn't all that unusual. The dream had been coming with increasing regularity over the last few months. They all started out differently, but they ended the same; he and Annie and a whole lot of erotica. And each time he woke up panting, covered in sweat, and with an incredible amount of pressure below his waist.

As if he didn't have enough to deal with already, now he was having sex dreams about his best friend. The best friend that he was basically madly in love with. The same best friend who had absolutely no idea that his feelings for her were anything but platonic.

Auggie threw his right arm even harder into the bag, making his shoulder protest. It was at least serving its purpose though, helping him get rid of the energy that had been humming through his limbs all morning. Beating his muscles to death in the gym seemed to be all that kept him from dragging Annie into the nearest supply closet and acting out his most private fantasies. Yeah, that was probably not a good way to keep his friendship going.

He swung again and this time the bag resisted his hit. His forehead furrow in confusion until the faintest scent broke through the smell of his own body. "Hey soldier boy, didn't expect to see you here so early. Looking for a sparring partner?"

Auggie bit back a groan but nodded. "Please, Annie dearest, do I ever pass up a chance to kick your ass?" She chuckled and he felt her hand on his forearm, leading him into the open area set aside for combat practices, and the contact of their heated skin brought every sensation from his most recent dream flooding right back to the surface.

Well, that was a full morning's work out completely wasted…


	76. Trig

**Trig**: (adj.) neat, trim, smart.

* * *

It was well known that Auggie was organised. He had plans and habits and routines, and he very rarely varied from them. All of his belongings were sorted and everything had its place. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was people messing with his order. Even in the wildly dramatic world he lived in, he had systems for everything that kept him from getting overwhelmed by the chaos. He was meticulous, to the point where Stu called him anal.

Auggie just liked knowing where everything belonged. It kept his life in perspective.

Even in his own home, things were stacked and folded and sorted down into specific labels. Dishes were stacked in order of size. Books and CDs were lined up on the shelves in alphabetical order. Clothes were hung according to colour and season and style. He liked the amount of control it gave him over his surroundings, knowing just where everything was. He didn't like change, he didn't like upsets, and he wasn't all that fond of new. When you went through every day without being able to see where you were or what you were doing, you clung to what little order you could have. Organisation was Auggie's order.

Then Annie Walker showed up in his life, with all of her fire and determination and chaos in tow.

Auggie slipped carefully out of bed, shivering in the cool morning air, and headed for the bathroom. He stepped on something and stumbled, biting back a curse at the pain in the ball of his foot. Curious, he felt around on the floor until he found what it was he'd stepped on. A shoe. A smooth leather, stiletto heeled shoe.

A small grin crept across his face and he set the shoe on the ground again, moving it to the side of the doorframe so he didn't have to worry about stepping on it again. She would kill him if he broke one of her precious Loubotins. When he'd finished in the bathroom he wandered back to the bed and slipped in. He had to settle in on the right side of the bed, even though he usually slept on the left, because there was a body curled up with the majority of the covers on that side. He was just making himself comfortable when she rolled over, taking up more of his space as she nuzzled her head into the side of his chest.

"Is it morning?" she mumbled sleepily, her lips whispering across his ribs as she spoke and sending chills up his spine.

"Not quite, we've got another half hour or so before we've got to get up," Auggie answered. She made an appreciative noise and snuggled in closer to his side, finally letting him back under the covers all the way.

Normally by this time, Auggie would be up and dressed and drinking his first morning coffee, getting ready to make a call for his car service. Instead he could tell that this would be another one of those mornings where he'd wind up scrambling to get dressed and they would be drinking their coffee in the car on the way to work. Meaning that he wouldn't have time to start up his computer and get his systems running before the morning briefing, and his carefully structured schedule for the rest of the day would be off.

Annie suddenly threw one of her legs over his, wrapping herself around his side and pressing a lingering, lazy kiss against his neck. Something twisted in Auggie's stomach in a pleasant sort of way, and he chuckled and raised an eyebrow in her direction. "I thought you were going back to sleep," he said.

Annie shrugged. "I'm awake now, I don't think I can get back to sleep before we have to leave," she answered and he could feel her grinning as she kissed along his collarbone. Auggie smirked and grabbed her hips, flipping them so he was hovering over her in the middle of the mussed up bed.

To hell with order.


	77. Assay

**Assay**: (v.) To examine or analyse.

* * *

Annie tried to convince herself that this wasn't totally creepy. She wanted to think that it was completely normal, and that she wasn't being a freak or a crazy stalker chick by doing it. She wasn't very good at convincing herself.

Not that it stopped her, of course.

The simple fact of the matter was that the Tech Office had glass walls. That's what started it all, anyway. Granted, the majority of the DPD was made up of half walls and large windows, but she told herself that was irrelevant. The Tech Ops department was walled entirely by glass, and that meant that from her desk she was awarded an unimpeded view of the tech agents within. Or more specifically, one curly-haired tech handler by the name of Auggie Anderson.

It had started out innocently enough. When she was bored with whatever paperwork she was doing, she would glance up to see what he was doing. He was her best friend and handler, after all, so it was only natural to be curious. _Right_? Most of the time he would just be sitting at his desk, typing away on his wide array of computers. The majority of the time his favoured headphones would be over his ears, and she knew only half of the time were they actually used for working. She could tell when he was listening to music instead, because he would sway his head slightly while he typed.

Other times he would be talking, either on the phone or to other techies. He had a habit of pacing when he was making important phone calls, walking up and down the length of his desk with one hand on the glass to guide him. When he was frustrated a deep line would form between his eyebrows and his lips would curl down in an almost pout. She could tell when he and the boys - and Margaret - were just joking around, because he would be relaxed back in his chair, talking with his hands and grinning.

Those were the times Annie found herself staring. No, that wasn't true. She also stared when he was intently concentrating on whatever he was working on, leaning forward in his chair with his eyes narrowed in focus. Well, and when he was irritated with what he was doing and took up that stress reliever he liked to play with. Or when he stood up to stretch out his muscles after sitting for so long.

Then there were those times when he invited her over for dinner, and she would watch the way that he moved around his apartment. She liked to see the way he moved so effortlessly. Or there were those occasions when she'd show up to the gym in the morning and he'd be there already, working out and covered in sweat. She'd linger in the doorway a little longer than she should have, just watching the way his muscles flexed and twisted as he moved through a habitual pattern in the gym. And then there were those all too vivid times when she would see him moving in her sleep, in dreams that were too real for her comfort and yet insanely captivating. You know, in a _oh-dear-god-did-I-really-just-dream-about-doing-that-with-my-best-friend_ sort of way.

Yeah, somewhere along the way, innocent observation had turned into an almost stalkerish obsession.

Auggie suddenly stood up in his office, jerking Annie back from her musing. She saw him heading for the doors so she hastily busied herself in her paperwork again. It was less than a minute later when she felt the phantom chills that went up her back whenever he was in close proximity. "Still stuck in all that paperwork?" Auggie asked, leaning his hip against the corner of her desk and giving her a sympathetic look.

"Yeah, apparently Joan hasn't forgiven me for that gunfight in the railway just yet," Annie said with a sigh, leaning back in her chair to look up at him. She didn't want to add that her work would be going a lot faster if she wasn't pausing every few minutes to ogle him. He didn't need to know that. "What about you?"

"Just finished for the day," Auggie said. "Was looking around to see if I could find someone to go get drinks with me. I think I need to unwind a little. All day long I kept getting that weird prickling feeling on the back of my neck, like someone was watching me. I think I've got a stalker."

Annie snorted, grateful that he couldn't see the heat that was blossoming on her cheeks. She stood up and slipped her arm into his grip, grabbing her purse before starting to lead him out of the office. "Auggie, I think you're getting paranoid."

She was sure she must have imagined the knowing twinkle in his eyes, but still she made a mental note to be a subtler with her observations for a few days.


	78. Gumption

**Gumption**: (n.) Initiative; aggressiveness; resourcefulness. Courage; spunk; guts.

* * *

Joan Campbell had been with the CIA long enough to see agents come and go. Some had quit, some had been fired. Some were burnt and some just burned out. On rare occasions they made it long enough to retire. No matter which fashion they left in, Joan had been there to see them leave.

And since she'd seen so many agents come through those doors, she had gotten very good at pinning timelines to them. She could tell which ones would fizzle out after their first dangerous mission. She could see which ones would defy authority and get themselves either into trouble or just plain killed. In short, she could know from the moment an agent set foot into her department which ones would be good and which ones would fail. It wasn't an exact science, per say, but she liked to think of it as a very strong intuition.

Still there were always those few agents who defied every expectation. Who went above and beyond everything that was expected of them, and pushed the boundaries of the service. They tended to be the most dangerous agents, but they were also the best ones. It was a tenuous balance they stood on which resulted in either greatness or disaster.

Joan had been one of those herself when she had been a field agent. She had gotten herself into her fair share of trouble, but she also had several commendations to show for it. She wondered if perhaps that was why she was so good at picking out which agents would push the envelope; they were the ones she connected with best. She had found kindred spirits in a young Hispanic woman named Miranda Rodriguez, who had gone on to pull off one of the greatest undercover ops in CIA history, even though she'd done it without department sanction. She had found it in Benjamin Mercer when he'd shown up full of big dreams and plans to change the world. She'd seen it in the charming army recruit named August Anderson that they'd brought in for his advanced technological knowledge as well as his talent in negotiation and coercion.

Which is why she'd known that they'd gotten much more than they gambled on the second Anne Catherine Walker showed up in the CIA.

If ever in her life Joan had seen a familiar soul walk through those doors, it was in Annie Walker. It was like seeing a twist in time, like watching herself walk into the CIA the way she had been as a new agent. So full of fire and passion and determination. Sure, Joan was a lot better about keeping a level head, and Annie was far better at languages than her, but beyond that they were nearly identical.

There were times where Joan questioned her judgement in pairing Annie with Auggie. Two such dynamic agents working together seemed a bit like playing with fire. Within their very first mission they showed a strong disregard for rules and a tendency to do whatever they thought right without worrying about protocol. Just when Joan thought they'd finally got Auggie settled into his work behind the desk, Annie came along and he was suddenly jonesing for the field again, taking risks and doing unsanctioned ops in a way he hadn't even done as a green agent. They were a recipe for trouble.

Joan leaned against the window of her office, staring out into the bullpen. Her gaze immediately went to one of the desks near the centre. Annie was sitting at her desk, her chair turned to face Auggie who was perched on the corner of her desk. It seemed like Annie was telling an amusing story that involved a lot of gesticulating with her hands, and Auggie was laughing, genuinely laughing in a way Joan hadn't seen for a long time. When they stood up to walk away, they worked in perfect harmony; he stood, offered a hand to pull her up, she stood and immediately transferred his hand to her elbow, and then they started walking at the exact same time. It was like some sort of choreographed ballet, the way they worked so well together and seemed to anticipate each others' movements.

Smiling, Joan went back to her desk and sat down. She didn't need to worry. After all, there had been a time when people questioned the logic behind having her and Arthur work together, and look where they had wound up. Annie and Auggie were the perfect team, perhaps even better than she and Arthur.

And who knew, maybe one day when she and Arthur retired away to some tropical island, their desks would be filled by those kindred spirits. History had a funny way of repeating itself that way.


	79. Usufruct

**Usufruct**: (n.) The right to use the property of another as long as it isn't damaged.

* * *

Auggie could practically hear her pouting. She had been sulking on the sofa for the last hour, sipping at a glass of wine and not talking much. She'd been this way ever since earlier that afternoon when Joan had informed him that he was being sent up to Boston for a surveillance job that could stretch anywhere from the weekend to a month. As excited that he was at being sent out into the field again, even for a sit-and-wait surveillance gig, he wasn't exactly thrilled about the timing either. After all, he and Annie had only been officially dating for a few weeks now. He had gotten rather used to sleeping with her almost every night and he wasn't looking forward to sleeping alone again.

Of course her sulking had only gotten worse when they'd gotten to his apartment, where he'd promptly had to start packing up a suitcase for the trip. It seemed like the visual proof that he was leaving was more than she wanted to take. And the sullen silence was more than Auggie could handle.

"Annie darling, you do know that giving me that sad puppy face is completely pointless right?" he asked jokingly, swiping one hand in front of his eyes quickly just to drive the point home. She gave a weak chuckle but that was the most response he got. Sighing, Auggie dropped the vest he'd been folding into the suitcase and walked out into the living room. He heard her moving her feet out of the way and he slid onto the sofa beside her, where she immediately curled into his side. "Alright, talk to me."

"Why? You already know," Annie pointed out. Auggie had to admit that she had a valid point there. "It's not that I'm not happy for you, because I am. I know how long you've wanted a real field job. I'm just - I'm just going to miss you is all."

"You go on field missions all the time," Auggie said.

"Well yeah, but I always still have you in my ear when I do," Annie said. "No matter how far away I am, I still get to talk to you. This time, I don't know when I'll be able to talk to you again. I mean, you realise we've never gone more than four days without talking to each other at least on the phone?"

"Hey, I promise I'll call. Every night if I can," Auggie said, combing his fingers through her hair gently. Annie sighed and leaned into his touch, and a small grin crept across Auggie's face. "Keep it up and I'm gonna think you actually like me or something."

Annie snorted. "Hardly. Your bed is just a lot more comfortable than mine," she said flippantly.

Auggie smiled, grateful for the return to their usual banter. "I know, I'm sure gonna miss that bed while I'm gone," he said with a playfully wistful smile. Annie made an indignant noise. "And I'm going to miss you too. I thought that was a given."

"You will be careful, won't you?" Annie asked, a slightly more serious tone to her voice now.

"What do you mean? I'm always careful," Auggie said.

Annie snorted again. "Auggie, six months ago you ran into the middle of an exploding building after some intel."

Auggie contemplated that for a moment. "Okay well I'm always careful so long as you're not around. You attract trouble like a magnet. So while I'm gone, will _you _be careful?"

"I promise," Annie said. "Although I don't know what I'll do without your voice in my ear guiding me." And honestly, Auggie was terrified at that idea too. He was going to go mad knowing that she might be out there in the field and he wouldn't be able to keep tabs on what was going on. He needed to know she'd be safe.

After a second of thought, Auggie stood up and crossed the room. Annie made a curious noise but didn't say anything. He walked over to the bookshelf and his hands found the small wooden box perched on the third shelf, which he opened. It wasn't difficult to find what he was looking for inside of the box, and he closed his hand around it before going back to the couch. "Can you promise to take care of this for me?" Auggie asked seriously.

"Of course," Annie said and he could hear the curiosity burning in her voice as she touched his closed hand, trying to prompt him to open it and show her what he was holding.

"And by take care of it, I mean keep it with you all the time, which means you have to stay out of trouble so nothing happens to you or to it," he emphasised. "Because this is very important to me, just as important as you are to me, and I couldn't handle losing it or you."

"I promise," Annie repeatedly sincerely. Nodding, Auggie opened his hand and held up the silver chain with the single dog tag hanging from it. He could still feel the embossed typeface across it, reading out all of his information. Annie reached out and fingered the tag gently. "Your dog tags?"

"You're an army kid, so you know how important these are to a soldier," Auggie said. "Keep a good eye on them, and you'll always have Captain August Anderson there to keep an eye on you." He paused and added, "Because, you know, when I was a Captain I could see to keep an eye on things."

Annie abruptly threw her arms around him, hugging him so tightly it almost made his ribs ache, and Auggie returned the gesture. When they finally drew apart, he hung the ball-link chain around her neck, and then touched the spot where the tag hung on her chest. "Just take care, because I expect this back when I get home," he said and grinned. In response, Annie leaned in and captured his lips. By the time she pulled back, his head was spinning slightly.

"So, what do you say we go and enjoy that oh-so-comfortable bed of yours another time or two before you have to leave?" Annie asked in an octave slightly lower than her normal.

Auggie's smile turned mischievous. "I think that sounds like the best idea I've heard all day."


	80. Apodictic

**Apodictic**: (adj.) Necessarily true or logically certain; Incontestable because of having been demonstrated or proved to be demonstrable.

* * *

It wasn't something that Annie could deny any longer. Deep in her heart she had already known, perhaps since the very moment they met, but it had been pounded into her skull so fiercely over the last two weeks that now there was absolutely no escaping the truth of it.

She couldn't live without August Anderson.

Sixteen days ago he had left for Boston on a surveillance mission. It wasn't a particularly huge or dangerous mission, just sitting around in a van outside a suspected weapon leaders' headquarters and listening for enough actionable evidence to get a warrant. He wasn't alone either, which made Annie slightly less nervous for his safety; Rodriguez, one of the more tech savvy senior field operatives was with him, so if anything happened he would be well taken care of. No, at the moment, Annie was a little more worried about her own safety.

"Ow, damn it," Annie hissed under her breath, accidentally shutting her finger in the desk drawer while putting away some finished files. She jerked her hand back and promptly stuck the throbbing finger into her mouth, sucking on it to ease the ache. It had been like this for the entire fortnight. She kept getting distracted and would wind up causing small accidents to hurt herself, everything from stubbed toes to spilt coffee to poking herself in the eye with her eye pencil. And it didn't take a genius to figure out why.

Letting out a heavy breath, Annie leaned back in her chair and reached up to fiddle with the necklace tucked beneath her shirt. It was a plain silver dog tag on a simple chain, but she hadn't taken it off once in the last sixteen days, not even to sleep or shower. As she was prone to doing, she lifted the tags up so she could read them and brushed her fingers over the engraved name on the top line. _Captain August Anderson_.

It was a small mercy that Joan hadn't assigned Annie to any real missions in the last two weeks. She could get through the workdays well enough, it wasn't like she was so distracted that she would blow an op or anything. Or at least she didn't think so. At the same time though, she also almost wished she was out in the field, just so she'd have to focus herself and stop obsessing about the fact that she'd only spoken to her boyfriend three times in the last two weeks, and each time for no more than a half hour. One and a half hours in sixteen days; that was far too little Auggie time in her books.

Of course being out in the field wouldn't help distract her from his absence, since that meant he wouldn't be there to talk her through the mission. They'd been apart for long periods of time before while she had been out on missions, but at least then they had been in contact several times a day if only to update the missions status. Just hearing his voice, listening to him crack a wry joke to lighten the seriousness of their work, was enough to keep her going until she could see him again. And that was before they'd started dating. If anything, she'd only gotten worse.

Annie continued toying with the dog tag, sliding it back and forth across the chain in a frenetic pattern. The fact that she was so dependent on another person made her feel slightly ridiculous, not to mention vulnerable. The last time she'd opened herself up to another man so completely, he'd left her deserted on the beach. Twice. Not to mention that time in Montreal. And then DC...

She knew Auggie wouldn't do that to her, would never intentionally hurt her, but that didn't stop her from feeling trepidation at the fact that she had let her life become so attached to another person. She had always been independent to a fault, so this was almost like new territory to her. New and frightening, but exciting too.

A sudden thrill up her spine made Annie sit up straighter, her intuition kicking in immediately, and she looked around the bullpen curiously. It took precisely three-point-two seconds before she figured out why; there, walking up the pathway to Joan's office with the woman in question, was a familiar mop of curly brown hair. Annie's heart leapt into her throat and she nearly jumped right out of her seat then. She wanted nothing more than to bolt across the office and grab him and never let go. But she couldn't do that. He was deep in conversation with Joan and she knew he was being debriefed. She would have to wait just a little while longer.

Unable to concentrate on her work, Annie strode into the tech office and sat down at Auggie's desk. She would wait for him to come back so she could talk to him and hear his comforting voice again. Not to mention she needed to give him his dog tags back, like she had promised.

It was twenty-six minutes later - she had been watching the clock anxiously since she'd sat down - when the sliding glass door opened. Auggie took three steps into the room and then paused, one eyebrow curving up slightly as the lights of his laser can landed on her. He took a slow, deep breath, and then a smile broke out across his face. "Annie," he said, but his voice was softer and more sincere than his playful smirk, almost hopeful.

In an instant, Annie was up and across the room. She didn't care that they were at work, that they were in the middle of the office, in a room made of glass windows. She didn't care that the rest of the DPD would be able to see, that everyone would finally know for sure that she and Auggie were more than just friends. She just threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Somehow Auggie didn't even seem surprised. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer, returning the kiss just as enthusiastically. When they broke apart Auggie leaned his forehead against hers, the tips of their noses still touching, and another mischievous smile split his face. "If this is the sort of welcome home I get, I'm gonna start going into the field more often," he said.

"Don't make me regret kissing you," she warned with a light laugh.

At that Auggie gave a derisive snort. "No one regrets kissing me," he said. "Although you might when this gets to the water cooler crew. So much for being covert about our relationship."

"I don't care," Annie said and shrugged. "It's not like they hadn't already guessed anyway. They've thought we were together since way before we actually were." Auggie nodded, conceding the point. A warm wave of emotion climbed up in Annie's chest, prompting her to add, "Besides, you shouldn't hide love, right?"

Auggie's eyes widened slightly and he lifted his head, cocking it to the side questioningly. "Love?"

For a moment, Annie didn't dare respond, thinking maybe she had gone too far. Had she jumped the gun again? They had only been dating for nine weeks now, two of which he'd been in Boston. But they had been friends for almost two years before that. In that time she'd come to understand that she loved Auggie, in every possible sense of the word. Whether it was premature or not, she'd spoken the truth.

Then a smile slid onto Auggie's face again, bright and sweet and genuine. "Are you saying you love me, Miss Walker?"

Annie laughed again and it felt like all of the weight had lifted from her body. She felt free and wonderful, and there was a wide grin on her face when she said, "God forbid, but I am in love with you, Auggie Anderson."

Auggie promptly pulled her in for another kiss, more tender than the last. Then he leaned back and said, "Heaven knows why, but I love you back, Annie dearest."


	81. Abject

**Abject**: (adj.) Utterly hopeless, miserable, humiliating, or wretched.

* * *

Annie knew that she was being ridiculous. She knew that it was a stupid idea and that she should probably just hang up the phone, open up a bottle of wine, and go to sleep. There was absolutely no reason for her to be doing this. No reason except that she had no idea what else she should do. Danielle couldn't help, she was at Chloe's dance recital. She had no one else to turn to.

After the fourth ring she heard a little click and then, "Hello?"

"Hey, Auggie," Annie said. She already felt foolish for calling and was tempted to say she'd dialled the wrong number and hang up. After all, they'd only known each other for a few days now.

"Miss Annie Walker," Auggie replied and she could hear the smile in his voice. "To what do I owe the honour?"

"I was just –" Annie trailed off as she felt something catch in her throat. She cleared her throat determinedly and tried again. "Do you want to go get some drinks?"

There was a pause from the other end of the line and then, "Are you okay, Annie?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Annie said and she winced when she realized just how quickly she'd responded. "Fine," she said again more slowly. "I could just use a drink and if I bring you along then I don't have to worry about skeezy drunks hitting on me."

"Besides me, of course," Auggie chimed in and Annie smiled.

"Yes, besides you," she agreed. "So, what do you say?"

"Meet you at Allen's in twenty," Auggie said and when she murmured her agreement they both hung up. Annie rushed through cleaning herself up. She changed out of her sweatshirt and into a nicer top, and scrubbed her face in a futile attempt to get rid of the redness around her eyes. Giving it up as a lost cause, she applied a quick layer of foundation to conceal it and then headed out to her car.

Twenty minutes later she was sitting at a little corner table in the bar with a half empty glass of beer in front of her. She had just lifted it to take another swallow when she spotted a familiar figure coming in through the doors. Auggie paused at the bar and the barman handed him a glass and pointed him in the right direction. He wound his way carefully through the tables until.

As soon as he was in earshot, Annie called out, "Auggie, over here."

"There she is," Auggie said and he grinned. She walked around the table to take his arm and led him to a chair before she dropped down in the one next to him. Auggie folded up his cane and tucked it into the pocket of his jacket before twisting in the chair to face her. "So what's the occasion?"

"Nothing really, just wanted out of the house," Annie said as casually as she could manage.

Auggie's forehead furrowed and he lowered the glass that was halfway to his mouth back down to the table. "Liar," he said with a small smile. "So really, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing really," Annie said. "Honestly. It's just – well, it's just something that my sister told me. It happened while I was at work. She doesn't know how it happened, it's just…"

Auggie raised an eyebrow when she hesitated again. "Don't worry, just whenever you get around to spitting it out," he said in that dry sarcastic way of his. "We've got all night." And even though he was kidding with her, there was something about the look on his face that told her he really would sit there all night talking to her if she asked him to. It was weird to her, since they hardly knew each other, but he was genuine.

"My cat died," she admitted in a rush.

Auggie froze and then his expression softened. "Oh, Annie, I'm sorry," he said. His hand slid across the tabletop looking for her hand. Annie moved her hand closer and touched his fingers, and he immediately took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "What happened?"

"We're not really sure," Annie said, grateful that he hadn't laughed at her. "She was fine when I left for work, and then Danielle went in to feed her dinner while I was gone and she was dead. I mean, I guess it kind of makes sense, she was getting kind of old. I just – I wasn't expecting it."

"No one ever does," Auggie said sadly. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay," Annie said, and it was mostly true. "She was the first real pet I had though. We couldn't keep pets on the base, and then I was travelling everywhere. When I moved back to DC to start my Farm training, I found Kit hiding in the garage and wound up adopting her. She was the first really stable thing I had for myself when I moved here." She was horrified to hear the tremor in her voice. It seemed like actually being able to talk about the tragedy was allowing her to finally, completely feel the pain.

Auggie nodded thoughtfully and squeezed her hand again. And then he abruptly stood up. "I think this calls for another round," he said. He turned toward the bar and shouted, "Hey Eric, can you bring us another round of beers?"

"Sure thing, Augs," the bartender called back. A minute later he came over to their table and set two glasses of beer down, with a murmured, "At your eleven, Auggie."

"Thanks, Eric," Auggie said. He picked up his glass and swivelled back to Annie. With a smile that Annie was quickly coming to know as the 'Auggie Smirk' he lifted the glass. "To Kit the cat."

Annie couldn't stop herself from smiling, the hopeless pain she'd been feeling slowly filtering away. She lifted her own glass and tapped it against his. "To Kit the cat."


	82. Torque

**Torque**: (n.) The moment of a force that tends to cause rotation.

* * *

Annie stopped in the doorway and leaned against the frame, a small smile sneaking onto her face. It was cool and quiet in the CIA so early in the morning, and it was her favourite time to hit the gym. No one to watch her, no one to judge her, and no one to give her those competitive looks on the treadmill that made her push herself harder than she meant to just to keep up. She really needed to work on her competitiveness. But for the fourth time in the last two weeks, she wasn't the first person to the gym.

Auggie was standing next to one of the punching bags, laying into as hard as he could. She could tell he had been there for a while already by the sheen of sweat on his face and neck, and the way the curls along his forehead were clinging to his skin. He was wearing just his usual loose basketball clothes, black like always. Annie gave herself a minute to just sit and admire the view. He may be her best friend but she was still a hot-blooded female and she couldn't deny that he was sexy as hell.

It was a little weird that she'd been seeing him so often during her morning workouts. He hardly ever used to come in before work, but lately he seemed to be here at least every other day, pounding into the punching bags like today or benching weight bars that Annie was pretty positive she couldn't even lift. Always with the same look of intense concentration and focus on his face, his dark eyes narrowed and his lips pulled tight. If anything, the look was sexier than the sweat-glazed biceps she was currently watching.

Annie shook herself back to reality and straightened up. She really needed to work on this creepy habit she'd developed of watching her best friend all the time. Sure, he'd probably love it if he found out she couldn't keep herself from staring at him, but she didn't want to go there. Then she'd have to figure out why she did it and he'd want to know why, and she wouldn't be able to push it off as just 'you're mesmerising.' No, she'd come here for a workout and she wasn't going to let the delusional fantasies forming in the back of her mind stop her from that.

She walked across the gym to the punching bags, setting her water bottle and hand towel down on the stack of mats a few feet away. Auggie seemed not to notice her approach and she could tell why; the sound of his fists wailing against that punching bag was loud. Loud enough that she really pitied whatever poor sucker wound up on the receiving end of one.

Feeling mischievous, Annie crept up behind Auggie and grabbed his shoulder. In a flash Auggie had pivoted, twisted her arm around them both, and thrown her flat to the ground. Before she could even gather up enough breath to say something he was kneeling across her stomach with her arms pinned above her head. He bent low over her, his expression still intense and his breathing heavily. Annie could feel it ghosting along her throat and she felt an all too pleasant squirm in her stomach as she processed their position.

Auggie suddenly grinned, shattering the image. "You really ought to know better than to sneak up on an operative, Annie," he chastised her playfully. "Especially one with a certain talent for kicking your ass. And it's just bad form to sneak up on the blind guy."

"I actually managed to sneak up on you though," Annie pointed out. Her voice was a bit breathless and it had nothing to do with having been slammed to the floor and more to do with the fact that he was still hovering only inches above her. "I didn't think anyone could sneak up on the great Auggie Anderson."

Auggie shrugged. "I was distracted," he said simply. "I didn't realise it had gotten late enough for people to start showing up."

Annie shifted slightly but Auggie didn't move. "Are you planning on letting me up anytime soon?"

"Not really," Auggie said nonchalantly. "I've got a beautiful woman pinned to the floor beneath me. What sane man would move?"

"A man who knows that the woman he's got trapped can make his life a living hell," Annie said.

Auggie grinned and nodded. "Fair enough," he said and made to stand up. He had pushed himself up on one arm when his leg caught around one of Annie's, throwing him off-balance. His arm buckled underneath him and he fell onto her. Annie caught one brief glance of his wide-eyed surprise before their faces collided.

It took Annie a second to process the fact that his lips were on hers. It wasn't a romantic kiss, per say. They were both squashed into the other and their mouths were quirked at unusual angles, and Annie's nose was throbbing slightly. But neither of them was making any motion to move away from the other. After a moment Annie shifted her lips slightly and she felt Auggie's move against hers until their lips were wrapping around each others.

Annie was being overwhelmed by broken images. Snippets of memories were blurring through her head one after the other. Auggie's sweat-coated body working in the gym; his sweet playful smile; his bared, defined torso; his dark, intense eyes. Real memories combined with vague things she'd seen in dreams. Then in reality there was the feel of his lips, earnest on hers, and his muscled body pressing down against her own. All together, her body was reacting far too much to this unintentional kiss for her own safety.

Auggie abruptly stiffened and pulled his head back, lifting himself up on his elbows to put some space between their heaving chests. There was a bright red flush across his cheeks that she knew mirrored her own. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, I lost my balance," he said and his voice sounded lower and rougher.

"Yeah, no, it's okay," Annie said, trying not to betray just how rapidly her mind was whirring. Or the fact that part of her wanted nothing more than to just grab his face and drag him back down to her.

Auggie cleared his throat again and then pushed himself up onto his knees, and then clambered to his feet. He seemed a little unsteady on his feet but he offered a hand down to her and Annie used it to pull herself up. When they were both straightened up they promptly took a step back from each other.

"You're okay, right? I didn't like, break your nose or anything, did I?" Auggie asked, sounding uncharacteristically nervous.

"No, I'm fine," Annie assured him. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Auggie said. He gave an awkward chuckle. "Well, that wasn't exactly how I imagined our first kiss going."

Annie blinked in surprise and then couldn't fight a small smile. "You've imagined our first kiss?"

To her shock, Auggie's ears suddenly went bright pink even as he forced out a casual laugh. "Of course, Annie dearest," he said with a shrug. "I mean really, every woman that spends more than ten minutes with me kisses me at some point. It's inevitable."

As much as Annie wanted to simply accept his explanation, there was something nagging at the back of her mind. It was true that a lot of woman that he met did wind up kissing him, but there was something more to this. He admitted to having given it some thought, having actually imagined what it would be like before. That meant something, didn't it? Or did it?

Auggie shifted his weight from one foot to the other and then cleared his throat one more time. "Anyway, I should probably go hit the showers. Otherwise Stu will be complaining about smelling me all day. I'll meet up with you later."

"Later," Annie chimed in lamely. She watched him wander across the gym to the men's showers, not bothering to hide the fact that she was staring. After all, he'd just inadvertently kissed her. She should be allowed to gawk a little bit at the way those basketball shorts hung across his hips and emphasised a very nice ass.

The moment he'd vanished beyond the doorframe, Annie grabbed her things and headed for the women's showers. Best friend or not, she really needed a cool shower if she was going to be able to focus on her work today.


	83. Canonical

**Canonical**: (adj.) Authorised; recognised; accepted.

* * *

Joan looked up at the light tap on her door and she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was only Auggie. He must have heard the sound because he smirked. "That didn't sound promising," he remarked lightly.

"It's been one problem after another in here all morning," she said by way of response.

"Should I go then?" Auggie asked with a cocked eyebrow. "I've been told that I'm nothing but trouble."

"You are," Joan agreed. "But I can tolerate you."

"I'm flattered," Auggie said and grinned. He walked in and held out a manila folder to her. "Here's those reports on the Serbian hack that you wanted. Hot of the press and ready to roll."

"And a day early," Joan noted with a nod. "You're buttering me up, what do you want?"

Auggie laughed. "Just earning brownie points for later, I'm sure I'll need them eventually," he said casually. "We wrapped up that Moroccan job ahead of schedule so I had more time to get this finished. Just wanted to drop them off before I head home for the night."

Joan made a small hum of understanding and surveyed the tech handler. He looked precisely like he always did; cool and composed and ever so confident. But Joan had known him long enough to see the subtle differences, the way his smile was slightly wider and his eyes were a little bit brighter. He was happy, and it was no secret why.

"Auggie, take a seat," she said.

"Uh oh, what did I do now?" he asked playfully, locating the chair with his laser cane and then sitting down.

"I'm just getting caught up with you," Joan answered calmly. "I hear things have changed up in your life a bit since the last time we talked."

Auggie chuckled. "Like you don't already know all about it," he said.

"Well after that sudden display of affection in the middle of the office when you got back from Boston a few months ago, I'm fairly certain _everyone _knew," Joan pointed out. She smiled when she saw a faint pinkish tinge in Auggie's ears. "So, you and Annie?"

"Just ask what you want to know," Auggie permitted. "I know you, Joan, no need to beat around the bush."

Joan laughed quietly at the way he predicted her so well. "Just wondering how it's going," she said. "You're both valuable employees and I like to know if relationships are going to jeopardise our work."

"And you like us," Auggie added. Joan didn't bother arguing that. "We're good. Really good. It's hard to explain, but it's really great."

"I'm glad to hear it," Joan said, and she really was. She was much more fond of the pair of them then she was willing to admit. Auggie had been a dear friend of hers ever since he'd joined the agency, and she had always been drawn to Annie, who reminded her so much of herself. "Although it would be preferable if you could refrain from public displays of affection in the office."

Auggie nodded. "Sorry Joan, you know the ladies can't keep their hands off me," he said with a nonchalant shrug.

Joan smirked. "Actually I was referring to the time Greg found you in the utility closet," she amended and was pleased to see that his cheeks darkened slightly. "So long as you can do that, then I see no problem with your relationship."

"Really?" Auggie asked and he genuinely sounded surprised. "No lectures on inter-house dating or mixing business and pleasure?"

At this Joan honestly laughed. "I hardly think that I'm one to lecture you on that," she pointed out and Auggie nodded. "Just don't let it cause too much drama at work and I don't see any trouble." She stood up and Auggie must have heard it because he stood up too. She walked around the desk and nudged his arm, and he instinctively clamped his hand on her elbow, allowing her to lead him from the room. "And Auggie," she added, and he tilted his head toward her to show he was giving her his attention, "I'm happy for you. The both of you. Just try not to do anything rash, would you?"

For some reason, Auggie smirked at that. "So then would this be a bad time to put in a change of address form for Annie?"

Joan's eyebrows raised. "Are you serious?" she asked. As shocked as she was, she couldn't deny there was also a bubble of pleasure in her chest. "Are you moving in together?"

"Not officially yet," Auggie said. "But it's coming soon, I can tell. I've got nearly as many of her clothes in my closet as I have my own."

"How do you feel about that?" Joan asked curiously.

"Nervous but excited," Auggie admitted readily. "It's a bit overwhelming, but it's Annie. Things are just right with her. You know?" Joan nodded her understanding, because she did know. It was the way she felt with Arthur; that no matter the obstacles that stood in their way, being together was still somehow right.

Joan didn't actually get to respond though, because they had reached the tech office to find Annie waiting in Auggie's desk chair. No one had to say anything to let him know because he just smiled and said, "Ready to go already, Annie?"

"I only just finished a few minutes ago," Annie replied.

"I'll see you both tomorrow," Joan excused herself, and she touched Auggie's shoulder affectionately before she turned and walk away. Just before she had gone out of earshot she heard, "So Auggie, what should we have for dinner?"

Three weeks later when a change of address form for Anne Catherine Walker appeared in her inbox, Joan was not surprised in the least.


	84. Zugzwang

**Zugzwang**: (n.) A situation in which a player is limited to moves that have a damaging effect.

* * *

A bullet clipped the edge of the upturned table that he was hiding behind and Auggie reflexively ducked further in on himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought that this was a terrible place for a blind guy to be, but that was in the back. The rest of his mind was already in soldier mode. He was taking in his surroundings by the sounds echoing around him and the brief description Annie had given him before the guns had started going off.

They were huddled behind a pair of tables near the entrance to the warehouse building. There was a catwalk above them somewhere and there were two marks up there with a very powerful automatic that could probably turn them into Swiss cheese if he or Annie tried to make a run for it. Then somewhere off to the left was another smaller room inside of the warehouse, an office of some sort. That's where they needed to be, because the intel they were supposed to be collecting was in there. Unfortunately the odds were pretty high that the other two marks were in there as well.

Auggie hated to admit it, but they were backed into a corner. They could either wait it out here until their shelter splintered to pieces and they were shot and captured, if not simply killed right away. Or they could make a break for the intel and be riddled with bullets during the run. Even if they made it to the office by some miracle, there were still to two marks unaccounted for. Not to mention he had no idea how they would get back out once they were there. No matter which route they went, their odds were not looking good.

Annie suddenly cursed and he felt her duck down beside him, panting. "You okay?" he asked quickly.

"Fine," she muttered. "It's just a scrape, barely got me." Knowing Annie and her stubbornness, he highly doubted that. A whole new wave of panic welled in him as well as an overpowering protectiveness. He wasn't ready to die, but if it had to come down to either him or Annie, the choice was simple. He would do whatever it took to get Annie out of there alive.

A new plan formed in his mind. If he went for the intel he would become the stronger threat. The marks would come after him and she would have a chance to escape. It wasn't much, but it was the only hope they had. The only hope she had.

"Hey Annie," he said, moving closer to her side. She was crouched behind the table as a volley of shots ricocheted off the concrete around them.

"What?" she asked distractedly.

He wanted so badly to say it. To tell her those three words he'd been thinking and wondering about for months now. But in the end he couldn't do it. He wasn't certain and he couldn't place that burden on her if he was about to die. So instead he said something else entirely, three other words that somehow meant the exact same thing between them. "Wish me luck."

"What?" Annie asked again, this time sounding thoroughly confused.

Without answering, Auggie grabbed the spare handgun from the waistband of her jeans and pivoted. Zeroing in on the sound of gunfire from above them, and suddenly grateful for those shooting range lessons he'd done with Annie months ago, he stood on his knees and fired. By the time the sound of a strangled yelp interrupted the automatic gunfire, Auggie had sprinted several yards toward what he hoped was the office room. He didn't even allow himself the satisfaction of actually hitting his target, just kept running.

He stumbled over something on the floor and he instinctively tucked and rolled to recover, back on his feet in a few seconds with nothing more than a throbbing ache in his shoulder where it had hit the ground. He literally ran into the office wall, and was thankfully only feet away from the door. He yanked it open and slipped inside, slamming the door shut just as a bullet pinged off the steel frame.

The noise was still maddening outside, but inside the room was quiet. He could hear the humming of a computer system in the corner. Maybe if he was lucky he'd be able to copy the information onto the cell phone, and when the CIA came back to comb the site later they would find it. At least then he'd have still completed Annie's job as well as saving her. He didn't bother trying to keep quiet as he stumbled across the room to the computer. After all, the whole point was to draw them to him and away from her. He collided with a smaller table, a loose chair, and what turned out to be another door on his way there.

Triggering the file transfer was easy enough, even without being able to see the phone as he pressed it's buttons. It probably helped that he'd designed the program. Just as the phone vibrated to signal that the transfer was complete, a door to the office opened with a bang. Auggie hastily shoved the phone into his pocket and dived to the side. The men - there were two of them, he could tell by their footsteps - started shouting at each other in Russian. Auggie wasn't fluent, but as part of his training he'd learned to recognize a few key words in every major language. As it were, the one word he caught out of the bellowed command was 'bomb.'

Auggie's adrenaline went into overdrive. He staggered to his feet and headed for the door he'd found on his way into the room. He stepped past it and shut it behind him, all the while knowing that there was no way it would be enough to shield him from even the smallest of explosions. The room he'd shut himself into turned out to be a closet, only a few feet across and full of storage boxes and loose wires. Auggie ducked down to the floor and buried himself as best as he could, and then braced himself. All of it happened in the span of only four seconds.

One last thought crossed his mind; that at least if he was going down he was taking those men that wanted to hurt Annie down with him.

Then an earth-shattering boom shook the world around him and Auggie caught a flash of brightly-lit desert landscape in his mind. The concussive explosion blasted the door behind him apart, something heavy fell onto his head, and the world dissolved into an oppressive, all-consuming black.


	85. Dearth

**Dearth**: (n.) an inadequate supply; scarcity; lack.

* * *

Auggie groaned and rolled over, trying to make himself comfortable. Of course it turned out that making yourself comfortable while sleeping in the passenger seat of a van was not exactly an easy feat. He thought back to the days he'd slept on rough cots in the middle of the Iraqi desert and wondered when he'd become so soft. At least here he had air conditioning.

If he was honest with himself, it wasn't really the reclined bucket seat that made it so difficult to sleep. No, it was the fact that there was no one there to steal all the blankets and make his arm fall asleep by using it as a pillow. It was the fact that there was no one elbowing him while rolling over in her sleep, or unintentionally tickling his calves with her twitchy little toes. In a matter of weeks, it had become almost impossible for him to sleep without Annie Walker next to him.

The mere idea of it was astounding. After all, they had only been sleeping together for a few weeks now - fifty-three days, not that he was counting, of course. Before that he had never had any trouble sleeping alone. Really, he almost preferred it. Tash had snored a little, and Liza had a bad habit of taking up far more than her fair share of the bed. The majority of the women that he slept with hardly ever stayed more than one night, a weekend at most. Then once they were gone he would sprawl out and enjoy having the entire mattress and all of the blankets and pillows to himself.

Somehow it was different with Annie. She was a complete blanket hog and he had to practically sleep underneath her just to get any of the covers. She had commandeered his favourite pillow, even though she more often than not wound up shoving it to the side of the bed and using him as a pillow instead. She moved around a lot in her sleep and on more than one occasion he'd been woken at a ridiculous hour of the morning by being elbowed or kicked.

Yet at the same time, there was something wonderful about laying in bed with her. She would lay her head on his chest and her fingers would tap in time to his heartbeat. She curled into his side and she fit there so perfectly that he couldn't help but think she must have been made for him. And every morning, even though she was irritable about being woken up, she would greet him with a kiss and a mumbled good-morning. Not to mention those great mornings when they woke up with some extra time to kill before work, and she would kiss him until his head was spinning and they wound up scrambling to get ready for work because they'd spent too long tangled up in each other. She eased his nightmares and made the mornings so much brighter.

Grunting again, Auggie switched back to his other side and tugged the thin flannel blanket back over the top of him. It was only the third day into this surveillance job and he was already going mad without her. Annie had turned him into a lovesick fool.

"_Mi Dios_, Auggie, would you hold still?" Rodriguez said in exasperation from the back of the van where he was taking his shift listening to the audio feed. "You're pitching around so much I'm getting a ton of static in the signal."

"Sorry," Auggie replied with a sullen sigh. He laid on his back and folded his arms behind his head, trying to make himself relax.

"It never gets easier, you know," Rodriguez said suddenly. Auggie sat up and turned to face him, arching an eyebrow questioningly. "Sleeping without your woman."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Auggie said evasively. He and Annie hadn't gone public with their relationship yet, no matter the number of rumours circulating through the department. They felt it was safer to keep things quiet for the time being. The CIA had a terrible history of manipulating relationships, something the pair of them both had personal experience in, and they wanted to be able to prove that they could continue to work together without their relationship affecting their jobs.

Rodriguez chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sure you don't," he said in amusement. "I have been here longer than you have, Auggie. I know a CIA answer when I hear one." Auggie didn't try to dispute it; that would only incriminate him worse. "My first time out in the field after I met Mary, it was a nightmare. I couldn't sleep for more than a half hour at a time because I'd wake up wondering why she wasn't in bed with me. Was so exhausted by the end of the week that I almost blew my mission."

"How do you deal with it then?" Auggie asked, dropping all pretence.

"Extra pillows," Rodriguez answered with another laugh. "Stuff a bunch of pillows in next to myself so I can pretend she's there. And I keep a little bottle of her perfume in my bag wherever I go. Spray a bit of it on the pillow and it makes it feel more real. You just pick up on little tricks like that as you go along. The more you do it, the better you can refine it. It's not the same, and you're still gonna miss her something fierce, but in this line of work it has to be good enough."

Auggie nodded thoughtfully and laid back down. After a moment, he tugged the pillow out from under his head and curled it in against his stomach, wrapping himself around it. It felt better that way, pretending that he was holding her. It wasn't the same at all, but it would have to do. Burying his face in the pillow, he sighed and tried to will himself to sleep.

God he couldn't wait to get back to DC.


	86. Détente

**Détente**: (n.) A relaxing of tension, especially between nations.

* * *

Stu loved his job. He liked the tech and the excitement and the fact that every day was a new challenge. He loved the fact that in the CIA the little computer geek was just as important as the field agents. He really liked the people he worked with too, for the most part. Sure, Joan Campbell's brisk personality took some getting used to, and Greg's sense of humour was bizarre at best. But overall, they were great people.

It was days like today, however, that he really hated being at work. His boss Auggie was normally a really cool guy. In fact, he'd become increasingly easier to get along with over the last few months. He laughed easier and stressed less. Today though, he was in a mood, and that could mean just one thing:

He was fighting with Annie.

Which would explain why Jimmy in the desk next to him was running as Annie's handler on her mission today. Stu could see that Jimmy was practically freaking out as he ran double and triple checks of everything on his computer screen. Jimmy had only ever handled one or two ops before, and neither of them very complicated. And as everyone in the DPD knew, if you ran a mission with Annie it was bound to get complicated. It was no wonder Jimmy looked like he was on the verge of a total panic attack.

Auggie didn't seem to be doing all that great either. He looked pale and drawn, like he hadn't slept in days, and he was huddled at his desk with his headphones on, focusing on his computer with an almost frightening intensity. Stu had worked with him long enough to know what that meant; He was absorbing himself completely in his work so he wouldn't have to deal with everything else.

Stu sighed and turned back to his own computer. Clearly today was going to be a long day, since it seemed like no one was in the mood for chatter or jokes or even conversation as a whole. Jimmy was close to spontaneous combustion and frustration was rolling off of Auggie in waves. Trying to hide from the tension, Stu dug out his own set of headphones that he so rarely used and hid himself inside of an Egyptian code break.

Time was dragging by far too slowly for Stu's taste, and he found himself glancing at the clock every two minutes in the hopes that it would have moved faster. He missed Auggie calling him in to tag-team on ciphers or being sent to retrieve various tech so they could assemble it for some wild mission he'd work with Annie. He missed when Annie would sneak into the office to chat with them every once in a while, trying so hard to understand the tech they explained to her and then simply smiling with she failed. And he especially missed the way her presence made Auggie stop being a reclusive asshole like he was being today.

Whatever their issue was, if they didn't fix it soon then Stu resolved to find a way to fix it himself because he couldn't handle working like this.

Things went mad when Jimmy began shouting at Annie through the headset. Alarmed, Stu jerked his headphones down to listen as Jimmy struggled to re-establish contact. Auggie had bolted up from his office with an inhuman speed for a sighted guy, let alone a blind one, and was crowding Jimmy to get information. When Jimmy couldn't give him any, Auggie ripped the headset right off him and held it to his own ear, screaming for Annie. There was nothing but pure, unadulterated terror in his face.

Auggie gave up and slammed the headset onto the desk, and then marched back to his office, pacing a frantic line. His posture gave the impression of anger, but Stu knew what it really was. He was afraid. He was worried about Annie. Stu jumped up to join Jimmy at the computer, and just as he got there Jimmy got the news from the back-up. They had her. She was going to be okay.

"Go tell him," Stu said quietly, gesturing toward where Auggie was slumped in his desk chair. Jimmy nodded stiffly and slipped into their boss' office to give him the news. Hardly a split second later, Auggie was up and almost jogging down the hall toward the med station.

Stu dropped back into his chair with a satisfied smile. Auggie and Annie would make up over this, there was no doubt about that. Near-death experiences and botched missions had a way of putting things into perspective. He was positive that come tomorrow morning Auggie would be back in the office, looking tired but smiling again. Now that the storm had passed, everything could go right back to normal.

Stu really loved this job.


	87. Feign

**Feign**: (v.) To represent fictitiously; put on an appearance of.

* * *

It was the loud groan that woke Auggie up. Blinking in confusion, for all that good that did, he lifted his head and groaned himself at the painful crick in his neck. His brain felt a little fuzzy but it didn't take him all that long for the memories of the previous night to come back. After a particularly long and difficult mission, thankfully only mentally exhausting and not all that physically dangerous, Annie had wanted to unwind. So they'd gone back to his apartment and broken into his liquor cabinet.

Since she was the one who wanted to relax, Auggie had taken it on himself to be the responsible one while she had drank. They had gone through more liquor than usual, a combination of beers and tequila, and Annie had wound up completely wasted. It had turned her into a giggly little girl, and Auggie had gotten a laugh out of listening to her drunken ramblings. She really was quite entertaining. They'd stayed up talking on the couch until she'd fallen asleep in his lap.

Annie groaned again and pushed herself up off his chest. Auggie shifted himself into a better position, straightening up and wincing at the aching in his muscles. Sleeping on the couch with his legs propped on the coffee table was not exactly the most comfortable of nights. "Oh God," Annie moaned.

"You sound like crap," Auggie said.

"I feel worse," Annie responded. "Why did you let me drink that much?"

Auggie snorted. "It was too dangerous getting between you and the bottle. You nearly clawed my hand off when I tried to take it away from you."

She made another miserable noise. "God, I didn't do anything stupid last night, did I?" she asked anxiously. "I don't remember anything after about the third shot."

A memory came back to Auggie, crystal clear. Annie had nuzzled her head into his collar, her warm breath tickling across the hollow of his throat._ "I love you, you know."_ The slurred words that had made his heart jump in his chest, making him light-headed and giddy.

"Auggie, you okay?" Annie asked and now she sounded concerned. Auggie realised he'd never answered her, just been staring off into space and immersed in the memory.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine," Auggie said breezily. "I've just got a bit of a hangover too. The world was spinning a bit for a second." He reached out and patted her leg, and then stood up. Once he'd got his footing he said, "C'mon, coffee, a beer, and some aspirin for breakfast this morning."

"That sounds nice," Annie muttered, and Auggie felt himself strung through to the night before, when that had been her response to something entirely different.

_"I love you, you know."_

_"Love you too, Annie."_

_"Tha' sounds nice."_

Auggie smiled mournfully as he set up the coffee machine. Because it really had sounded nice.


	88. Handsel

**Handsel**: (n.) First encounter with or use of something taken as a token of what will follow.

* * *

If Auggie had known what exactly he was getting himself into when Joan asked him to do this, he might have backed out. No, that's not true at all. Actually, if he'd have known then he would've gotten there even earlier. Of course he hadn't known at the time, so he'd simply reported to the place Joan had ordered and then given the newbie agent the abridged DPD tour.

Annie Walker was something special. He could tell that from the start. Everything from the Jo Malone grapefruit to the kitten heels to the innocent question about his headphones was charming and sweet. He felt himself drawn to her like a magnet. She was all of the fire and passion and enthusiasm that had been missing from his life since he'd come back from Iraq with a purple heart and prescription grade independence issues. And then of course there was the fact that she loved Mingus. If he hadn't been sold before, that would've done it four times over.

So when the CIA transportation agent came to take her to her first mission, he vowed to keep a close watch on her. He wasn't keen on losing his new friend just as quickly as she'd come into his life. She'd paused in the doorway and called back, "Wish me luck."

Auggie smirked. "You don't seem like the sort to need it, but good luck." He had actually felt her smile as she'd turned away and left.

As he thought back over the conversation, he couldn't help but hope that this was the start of a very long and promising friendship.


	89. Mantic

**Mantic**: (adj.) Of or pertaining to divination; having the power of divination.

* * *

Danielle had never exactly had the best intuition when it came to people. She tended to always see the best in people and then wound up being proven wrong time and again. It had led her into a lot of bad relationships as a teenager and her fair share of heartbreak. Her mother said that she always took people at face value. He would seem like a nice enough guy on the surface, but once she really got to know him she'd realize there was so much more waiting below that she had never expected.

It was lucky when she met Michael. He turned out to be as good a man as she had hoped he would be. She couldn't have felt more blessed when they married and started their wonderful family. Because finally her judgement about a person was right.

Her poor skills at understanding people tended to cause a lot of problems between her and Annie as well. Dani just wanted what was best for her. Annie had always been a wild child, but she knew that deep down Annie was a romantic too. She wanted passion and romance and a forever. Apparently she found all but the last one in some guy she met while travelling. Dani never got the full story - she was starting to think that there were a lot of things that Annie didn't give her the full story on - but from what she understood this guy Ben had promised her forever and then left without a word.

It was no wonder Annie wasn't much into dating, really. After that Dani was fairly certain she wouldn't have wanted to trust men much either. But it had been years since Sri Lanka and since Ben. It must be time to move on now.

Which is why Dani instigated Thursday night dinner parties. She roped Michael into helping her find men to invite over to meet Annie, hoping that something might click with one of them. She didn't have to marry them, but it would be nice to see her baby sister actually go out on a date for once. All she ever seemed to do now was work. A museum job couldn't possibly be _that_ demanding. Unfortunately it turned out that most of the guys that she and Michael knew were not exactly Annie's type. And a couple of them definitely proved the point that Dani was not a very good judge of character.

But when Annie showed up with her friend from work in tow, Dani just _knew_. She had met Auggie Anderson before when they'd taken Chloe's class to the Smithsonian, and she liked him, but it wasn't until she saw the two of them together that she saw it. The Click. They moved perfectly together, were so perfectly in tune with one another that they could almost finish each other's sentences. Auggie made Annie smile in a way that Dani hadn't seen her smile since they were kids.

Even though Annie insisted that they were just friends, and Auggie never countered that fact, Dani could tell. They might not be together yet, but it would happen. That sort of perfect chemistry didn't stay "just friends" for too long. Dani might not be the best judge of character, but she did know her little sister and she knew that Annie and Auggie were meant to have that forever.


	90. Hoary

**Hoary**: (adj.) Tedious from familiarity; stale.

* * *

Annie let out a groan and sank back into the sofa, closing her eyes. She lifted a hand to rub at her forehead, trying to massage out the headache that had settled between her temples. From somewhere behind her she heard a quiet chuckle.

"That good huh?" Auggie asked over the sound of running water from the dinner dishes he was rinsing.

"I think if I have to look at one more place setting or centrepiece then my brain is going to explode," Annie responded and then moaned again just for good measure. Auggie laughed and Annie twisted around on the couch to glare at him. "I'm giving you a dirty look, so you know."

"I can feel it," Auggie said casually.

"Then quit laughing at me," Annie whined. "You're lucky you don't have to sit and look through all of this stuff. It's like every time I think we've got all the details chosen then a dozen more things pop up that need to be done."

"So take a break then," Auggie said. He shut off the sink and made his way to the sofa, shifting aside a stack of magazines and brochures so he could sit down.

"I can't," Annie argued. "We've only got three weeks left 'til the wedding, and I've still got so much to do. I've got to finalise the table settings and I have a final fitting for my dress this weekend, and then there's hair and makeup and the rehearsal dinner."

Auggie's hand crept along the back of the couch until he found her shoulders, and he tugged her so she was leaning back into his chest. Then he laid his hands on her shoulders and began rubbing at the knots around the base of her neck. "I told you we should have just eloped," he joked.

Annie laughed lightly and laid her head back on his shoulder, nearly moaning with pleasure as the tension was eased out of her shoulders. "I'm almost starting to agree with you," she admitted. "If it weren't for the fact that Danielle would kill me, I would say let's just go now and get it over with."

"Yeah, she scares me too," Auggie agreed and she laughed again. "Alright, c'mon, get up."

"What? Why?" Annie asked, tilting her head back to look at him in confusion.

"We're taking a break from all of this wedding stuff," Auggie told her. He pushed her off his chest so he could stand up and then offered a hand down to her. "We haven't even been on a real date in weeks. So you and I are going to go and relax and do something spontaneous. Now c'mon and get up while the night is still young."

Annie glanced at the heaps of papers on the coffee table still waiting to be gone through, and then up at Auggie's eager smile. The choice wasn't difficult. "Alright, what are we doing?" she asked when he pulled her to her feet.

"Grab that old blanket from the closet," Auggie said by way of answer. Annie did as he asked without questioning, more than willing to trust her fiancé's strange whims, and when she came back he was toting a paper grocery sack in one hand, his white cane in the other. "Okay, follow me." Annie took his elbow and he led her out of the apartment and into the elevator. Then, instead of pressing the down button as she'd expected, he pressed up. They rode up in silence and when it stopped on the top floor Auggie steered them out and toward a door opposite the elevators.

A rush of cool night air swept over them as Auggie opened the door and they stepped out onto the apartment's roof. It was not long after sunset, the sky spanning from a pale gold in the west to deep violet on the east horizon with stars just beginning to emerge. Annie could see everything for several blocks around them, a wide expanse of roofs and glowing windows.

"It's beautiful up here," Annie said in awe.

"Oh good, I'm glad," Auggie said and laughed. "Because I had no idea. I was just kind of hoping this worked out." He set down the bag, and then took the blanket from her and spread it out on the ground. Then he sat down on top of it and patted the spot next to him. Annie was beaming as she sank down next to him. "And to help us relax," he continued and pulled out the contents of the grocery sack; a bottle of wine and two plastic cups. "Sorry about the Dixie cups. I didn't want to risk dropping the crystal off the roof."

"Auggie, this is wonderful," Annie said genuinely and she leaned forward to kiss him. Auggie poured glasses for the both of them and they leaned back, talking and drinking. They chatted about everything except the wedding, and once the bottle of wine was gone they laid out on the blanket. Annie curled into Auggie's side and they just laid together.

"Thank you," Annie said suddenly. Auggie tilted his head and gave her a curious look. "For this. I really needed it."

"I know. We both did," Auggie said. Annie let out a sceptical laugh. "What, you think I'm not stressed out too?"

"Not really," Annie said.

Auggie chuckled. "I just hide it better," he assured her. "Besides, even if I wasn't stressed about the wedding, the fact that you're so stressed out makes me stressed. But I just keep reminding myself, it'll be worth it in the end."

Annie surveyed his face and she could tell that he was being entirely sincere. She felt that warm feeling she always associated with Auggie well up in her chest and she leaned in to kiss him thoroughly. By the time she pulled back they were both breathless and beaming. "I love you," Annie told him.

"Of course you do," Auggie replied with a grin. He took her hand and brushed his thumb across the little diamond ring on her third finger. "Which is why in three weeks we're going to get married and everything will be absolutely perfect. I promise." He lifted his head to kiss her again.

"You're right," Annie said and now she was smiling mischievously. She crawled even closer to him, swinging one of her legs across his thighs and using her free hand to toy with the curls along the base of his skull. "So I think right now, we should really just concentrate on unwinding. You know, take the edge off."

Auggie's smirk widened but before he could respond Annie had claimed his lips in a fierce kiss. He responded enthusiastically, and much later that night they sneaked back into the apartment, their hair and clothes in complete disarray but with very relaxed smiles on their flushed faces.


	91. Deadpan

**Deadpan**: (adj.) Marked by or accomplished with a careful pretence of seriousness or calm detachment.

* * *

Annie had never liked funerals. She supposed that there were very few people who did like them, really, except maybe the people who ran funeral homes. She had only ever been to a couple of them in her life, none too recently, back when her grandparents and then one of her aunts had died. Annie had always been the kind of person who liked motion, movement, action; not the kind of person who was content with sitting still for several hours while preachers droned on. It sounded insensitive, even to her, but she wanted nothing more than to just get up and run away whenever she found herself trapped in that situation.

Which was why it was even stranger that she was sitting at the graveside in this little cemetery, listening to an elderly man with a preacher's collar talk about verses from the scripture that she had never heard before - she never had paid much attention in the early years when her family had gone to church. She didn't actually know the majority of the people around her and she didn't know the person in that coffin suspended above the open grave either. There was one and only one reason that she was sitting patiently on the velvet covered folding chair in the humid autumn air: the man sitting next to her with his hand wrapped around hers.

Auggie hadn't spoken much in the last few days. Ever since she'd found him in his apartment that evening, looking more emotionally devastated than she had ever seen him before, he'd been mostly quiet. He'd talked to her that first day, told her how it had surprised them all and how no one had expected it, that one of his brothers had died. Then after that he went quiet and he'd stayed that way for the last four days, talking only when necessary and nothing more substantial than half-assed small talk.

He also hadn't strayed far from her side whenever he could manage it. She'd stayed with him until late in the night that first night, sharing cold pizza and beers as he sat close to her side on the sofa that definitely had more than enough room for the both of them. The next day at work he'd spent most of it hanging around her desk, coming by and sitting with her in little twenty minute spurts, just sitting and listening to her type and mutter to herself while she worked. After that day Joan had told him to take the rest of the week off. He'd called Annie the moment she'd gotten off work and asked if she wanted to come over and watch movies with him, and the night after she'd gotten him and taken him home with her, music playing in the background while she packed her suitcase for their morning flight to Illinois. He'd shared the bed with her and she'd held his hand through the night.

Even when they'd gotten to Illinois and been picked up by one of his brothers, Auggie hadn't said much. They'd exchanged shallow greetings and embraced, and Auggie had introduced Annie as his best friend from DC. After that it had been a rather quiet drive from Chicago to the Anderson family home in Glencoe and a stiff, uncomfortable dinner and viewing with dozens of other Andersons. Annie had known he had a big family, but she wasn't quite prepared for the crush of people that she met, including six siblings and what must have been twenty-plus cousins. It had been a sombre event, full of grief-tainted reunions with family that hadn't been seen in years, and Annie had felt horribly out of place. At one point she had been wondering if maybe she should excuse herself and slip outside for a few minutes, but almost as if he'd known, Auggie had reached out and taken her hand, squeezing it and pulling her closer to him.

Just like now, how he sat on the edge of his seat, his shoulder bumping hers as their twined hands lay on his knee. He had the same expression on his face that had been there for most of the last four days; eyes distracted, mouth drawn and pinched, jaw stiff. The spark that normally lit his cocoa eyes was dimmed. It was like his spirit had died, leaving behind a blank, detached shell of her best friend. He was distant, closed off. Like the only thing keeping him attached to the real world was her hand in his. The thought made Annie's chest seize and she gripped his hand more tightly.

The funeral ended and family members filtered by, some of them laying flowers across the dark cherry wood coffin. Annie and Auggie stayed in their seats while the others moved around, and she could tell it wasn't just because Auggie didn't like walking in crowds. Even when most of the others had filtered off, Auggie stayed staring straight ahead, his hand holding onto hers like he thought she would disappear if he let go. But something had changed in his expression. The look of calm solemnness was cracking, slipping. His brave front was failing.

Twisting in her seat to face him a little better, Annie reached up with her free hand and brushed the curls off his forehead, even though they bounced right back the moment she'd moved her hand. Auggie leaned his face into the touch and she cradled his cheek in her palm. "Auggie," she said gently.

With the one soft whisper, his façade shattered.

Auggie let go of her hand to wrap his arms around her, burying his face in the side of her neck and pulling her body closer to his. Annie curled her arms around him, rubbing one of her hands up and down as his spine while he fisted his hands in the back of her cardigan. He wasn't really crying, but he was trembling. She knew he was just finally letting himself experience the emotions that he'd been fighting off for the last couple days. They held each other until Auggie stopped shaking, and a few minutes after that he lifted his head from the crook of her neck.

Annie smiled sadly and reached up to wipe away the moisture that had silently rolled down his cheeks. Auggie took a shuddery breath and then managed the first smile she'd seen in days. "Your sweater is very soft," he said and his voice caught in his throat but he sounded like himself again. "Cashmere?"

"My sister might have terrible taste in men, but she has a fabulous taste in sweaters," Annie said by way of response.

"I'll remember that come Christmastime," Auggie said with a nod. "I can always use a nice sweater." He cleared his throat and then stood up, offering a hand down to her. Annie took it and let him pull her to her feet. "C'mon, time to go introduce you to the Andersons' greatest funeral tradition."

"People have traditions about funerals?" Annie asked in surprise.

"Andersons do," Auggie said with a soft chuckle. "I did warn you that we treat deaths differently than most people. Don't worry, it's fun though." Annie held onto his hand as they walked down the quiet streets of Glencoe back to the big farmhouse that Auggie had grown up in. He still looked sad and shaken, but he looked alive again and that eased the aching in Annie's chest. He would be okay.


	92. Aureate

**Aureate**: (adj.) Characterised by an ornate style of writing or speaking.

* * *

"Auggie?"

"In here, babe," Auggie called back, pausing in his reading. He heard the distinctive click of Annie's heels as she came into the bedroom and sat down on the mattress next to him. "What's up?"

"I was looking through some ideas for the wedding invitations," Annie said, scooting up close to his side on the mattress.

"Oh yeah?" Auggie prompted curiously.

"I think I've found one I really like, but I wanted to run it by you first," she told him.

Auggie smiled and nodded, setting aside his book and twisting slightly to better face her. He had given up trying to tell her that asking his opinion on visual points of the wedding plans was completely pointless. She just kept insisting that it was his wedding too and she wasn't going to start off their marriage by making decisions without him. Auggie wouldn't admit it, but the fact that she went to so much trouble to include him in every little detail made him fall more in love with her each time. "Okay, what're you looking at then?"

"Well Kat and Chlo said I have to run theirs by you too," Annie said and he could hear the laughter in her voice as she pressed a piece of square cardstock into his palm. "They made this one when I was over there earlier. They used glitter glue so you'd be able to read it." Auggie ran his fingers over the cardstock, feeling the gritty raised lines covering it. He could feel little fragments flaking off beneath his fingertips, and he traced the letters that had been printed across the centre in a wobbly handwriting. _Annie and Oggy are getting maryed._

"Nice, but I think we should probably run a spell check over it first," Auggie said, chuckling.

"I don't know, I kind of like your name spelled that way," Annie teased. "It's kind of cute."

"Okay, please tell me you're joking and that you have another option," Auggie said, making her laugh again.

"This is the one I picked out," Annie said. She took the girls' card from him and handed him another one. Auggie brushed his fingers over the embossed letters in the middle, the details of the wedding writing in a classic slanting script. As his fingertips moved to the edge of the card he felt something that made him stop. A line of raised bumps ran around the outside like a border, and it only took him a second to recognise the pattern. Four words, printed in Braille, written over and over again. _Annie and Auggie forever._ Something caught in his chest. He knew to others it would just look like a unique, artistic border. She had done this especially for him.

Auggie turned and with near perfect accuracy captured his fiancée's lips. He poured everything he was feeling into the kiss; his gratitude for her sweet gesture, his wonder at having someone as perfect as her in his life, and the love that burned in his chest for her every second that he was alive. By the time they broke apart they were prone on the bed, his body hovering over hers, and both of them were breathless.

"So you like it then?" Annie asked innocently.

Auggie grinned and kissed a trail down the side of her neck. "I love it," he answered.

"The girls will be so disappointed," Annie said playfully. Auggie kissed the sensitive spot at the hollow of her throat and he felt her body arch under his as she gave a breathy gasp. "But they'll live," she said and tangled her fingers in his hair, dragging him up to kiss him again.


	93. Melismatic

**Melismatic**: (adj.) Characterised by the singing of several notes to one syllable of text, for emotional impact, as in blues and other musical styles.

* * *

Auggie loved his jazz music. He hadn't always, of course. His teen years and early adulthood had been full of rock music and head-banging. He'd loved the energy and the ferocity behind it. The way that skinny little white guys could get up on stage and own it, have all that power and passion and control. Rock music was straight-forward and simple in everything but the guitar riffs.

It wasn't until after Iraq that he'd fallen in love with jazz. It was all Billy's fault. That damn jazz music he tried to make them all listen to around camp or in the humvee. Auggie had nearly gone mad listening to the frilly piano and the brassy instruments. He let him get away with it every once in a while, when he was feeling generous, but the humvee was just not a place he'd allow it. Being captain definitely had it's perks, and the ability to shut off that damn radio was one of them.

He hated the way the rehabilitation centre was always so quiet. Quiet made it easier to think, and in this new world of darkness that he'd been thrust into the last thing he wanted to do was think. Whenever he let himself think his mind went back to the last images he'd seen; a bomb rolling beneath a humvee, Chris' scared face as the bullet wound in his leg bled out, Billy's body slumped in the driver's seat behind the shattered windshield, and then that earth-pounding explosion of light that had thrown him into oblivion. He didn't like to think, so he didn't like the quiet.

After a week of restless nights and short tempers he'd asked his nurse if he could have some music in his room. She'd agreed, but their music selection was something to be questioned. Classical composers, child's music, and Broadway soundtracks. He'd gone through a few days of Beethoven and Debussy before he'd found an old jazz album. He recognised the name of the artist, one of the men that Billy had always been going on about. The one they'd been listening to on that fateful drive into Tikrit before Auggie had shut it off.

Feeling guilty and sentimental, Auggie played the album as he lay in bed that night. He pushed everything else away - the sounds of footsteps shuffling through the hall, the smells of the starched fabrics and industrial strength cleaners - and just focused on the sounds. The way the different instruments overlapped and played off of each other. One voice harmonising with the other over an array of brass and strings. In that night, listening to an old album in memory of his fallen comrades, Auggie found a new love.

As time went on his collection of jazz music expanded and changed; Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker, Miles Davis. The longer he listened the more he learned about it. Every artist played differently, and improvisation seemed to be the name of the game. For a CIA man, that was something very relatable. But he found his real love in Charles Mingus, the "Angry Man of Jazz." Definitely relatable for the former soldier trapped inside of a rehab centre, going through therapy after therapy, with a purple heart buried in the back of his sock drawer and an entirely uncertain future.

After a while he started comparing music to the people that he met. His nurse Becky was like a clarinet; smooth and sweet, low and calming. His father was like an organ, deep and slow and with anger and stubbornness boiling just beneath the surface. His mum was an alto sax, full of quirkiness and cheer and rhythm. His siblings were all either trumpets, loud and aggressive and extroverted, or they were trombones, dramatic and changing and expressive.

The one person he couldn't pin a music to was Annie Walker. One minute was a trumpet, and then a sax, and then a flute. She would whirl up into a blazing solo and then shift down into a piano lullaby. Every time he thought he had her figured out, she would toss a new sound or pattern or note at him. At first it had almost annoyed him, because he'd always been so good at understanding people. But the longer it went on, the more he began to enjoy it. She became like a puzzle that he could never finish, a code he couldn't break. She was the perfect challenge, a game that he could never beat, and he loved it.

"Auggie."

Low, sultry, a long drawn out saxophone note. This was a new sound that had been recently added to her repertoire, and it sent chills up his spine.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"What are you thinking about?" Annie asked curiously. "You've got that look on your face again, the one you get when you're thinking about something."

Auggie smiled and curled his hand around her wrist, finding her pulse point beneath his fingertips and keeping time. One-and-two. One-and-two. Short bass beats. Her breath moved in and out, brushing over his collarbone where her head was laid, faster at first but gradually slowing to match the tempo beneath her wrist. A clarinet, sliding smoothly over the reed and blanketing the notes over him. He smiled and turned his head to plant a quick kiss on her forehead.

"Not thinking," he said, taking a deep breath and letting the sound of her wash over him. "Just listening to the music."


	94. Entelechy

**Entelechy**: (n.) A realisation or actuality as opposed to a potentiality.

* * *

There was something innately frightening about hospitals. Auggie figured it was probably from having far too much personal experience with them, but that didn't make it better. The cool air, the bustling noises, the chemical smells. It was enough to make him fidget around anxiously. So much for being the picture of calm and collected.

"Auggie," Annie said gently and he felt her fingers curl around his, squeezing supportively. Ironic, since he was there to support her, not the other way around. "You're twitching."

"Sorry," he said even though he could hear the amusement in her voice. "What's taking the doctor so long?"

"Calm down, babe, it's fine," Annie assured him. Auggie took a deep breath and nodded. There was no reason to be freaking out. He just needed to calm down. It's not like this was the most monumental doctor's appointment of his life or anything. Except the part where it was, in fact, the most important doctor's appointment of his life so far.

The door clattered open and Auggie heard the squeak of plastic shoes. "Sorry about the wait," a woman with a faint Boston accent said. "It's been a bit busy this morning. Well, shall we get started then? Ah, looks like you folks are in for your first sonogram. Wonderful."

Auggie felt like he might be sick. Oh sweet Jesus, was this really happening? He could hear jumbled noises from the other side of the room that he didn't understand. Sonogram equipment wasn't exactly a sound he was familiar with. What were they doing? He started tapping numerical patterns against his thigh with his free hand, just to give himself something to focus on. If he didn't clear his head he was going to faint.

There was an odd squirting noise and Annie gasped, tightening her grip on his fingers. Auggie tried to still himself, listening to the soft sound of the jelly being spread over her stomach and then the low hum of machinery being turned on.

"Alright, let's take a look and see what in there," the doctor hummed. Auggie waited, tense, for something. Anything. God he hated not being able to watch. What were they seeing? Had something gone wrong? Was it not there like they'd thought? Oh God, what if it wasn't actually there? False positives happened, didn't they? What if -? "And there it is."

"What?" Auggie asked, sitting up straighter.

"Auggie, there it is," Annie breathed and she sounded awed. "I can see it. It's so tiny. Only about this big." She opened his palm and then held two fingers against his skin, hardly an inch apart. "It's like a tiny little jelly bean. You can barely see the little arms and legs."

"Looks like you're about ten weeks along," the doctor said. "Which means we should be able to..." She trailed off and there was a few strange whirring noises. Then suddenly there was a high rhythmic thumping sound, faint but fast.

"What is that?" Auggie asked, tilting his head curiously as he listened to it.

"That's your baby's heartbeat," the doctor answered.

Auggie felt like his brain was spinning. That fast beating sound was his baby's heart? He was having a baby. And that was it's little heart hammering away. Suddenly it wasn't just a possibility anymore. It wasn't just he and Annie speculating about having a family together. This was real. They were really going to have a little baby, the tiny little thing growing inside her. He was going to be a father.

"It's so fast," Annie said. "Is it supposed to be that fast?"

"A foetus' heart can beat up to a hundred and sixty beats per minute," the doctor explained. "Almost twice the average of a healthy adult. It's perfectly fine to beat that fast, and it will slow down as it gets bigger and stronger. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, it looks like you've got a healthy little baby on the way."

"Thank you," Annie said. The doctor told her to clean up while she had the sonogram pictures printed, and then she left. There was a moment of quiet and then Annie said, "Auggie? Are you alright?"

Auggie blinked and realised his eyes were moist. He lifted his free hand and rubbed at them. "I heard it's heartbeat," he said quietly and a smile spread across his face. "My baby. _Our _baby. I'm - I'm fantastic."


	95. Hacienda

**Hacienda**: (n.) A large estate, especially one used for farming or ranching.

* * *

Annie leaned back on the cushioned bench and stared out across the landscape in front of her. It seemed like a never-ending expanse of green, from the neatly-trimmed grass to the flourishing gardens that edged the lawn to the wall of towering trees that backed up the property. It was an enormous space, and it was amazing to her that such an astonishing view all belonged to one family.

"I can't believe this is where you grew up," Annie said aloud into the dark. "This place is huge."

Next to her, Auggie chuckled. "With a lot of kids you need a lot of space to run," he said. "Especially when those kids have as much energy as we did. Trust me, with all seven of us out here in the middle of the summer, it still wasn't big enough to keep us out of trouble."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Annie asked with a smile. "I can just imagine you being a little hellion child."

Auggie smirked around the lip of his beer bottle. "Please, I was an angel." He paused and then added, "Or at least that's what I convinced my mom of. My brothers will tell you otherwise."

Annie scooted closer to Auggie and leaned her head on his shoulder, drawing from his warmth. The whole thing felt domestic and comfortable, and it almost made her forget why they were there in the first place. Of course she figured that the dozen or so shots of whiskey they'd drank after the funeral were not helping her memory any. Most of the other Andersons were already passed out, but Annie and Auggie had slipped outside to enjoy the quiet summer air.

"This place is so full of memories," Auggie said quietly. Annie glanced sideways at him, taking in the pensive look on his face. His unfocused eyes were distant for an entirely different reason now. She knew he was seeing the yard the way it had been when he was a child here. "Do you see that oak tree, the thick one back there behind Mom's garden shed?" he asked, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the rear of the yard. "I broke my wrist falling out of it when I was just six. Tony had tossed my GI Joe up in the branches and I climbed up to get it. The branch broke under me. I landed on Tony and cut his forehead open with the tree branch. GI Joe didn't survive. Mom made Tony use his birthday money to buy me a new one."

He smiled ruefully and took another sip from his beer. Annie wondered how in the hell he was still drinking and speaking articulately. She was feeling more than pleasantly warm and fuzzy at the moment. "AJ lit that garden over there on fire when he was sixteen, that one with the tomatoes in it," Auggie continued. "Least I think Mom still plants tomatoes in it. She likes to keep her gardens specified."

"Yeah, they're tomatoes, I can see them from here," Annie assured him. "Is that where you get your OCD from?"

"I'm not OCD," Auggie retorted with a laugh. "I'm organised. There's a difference. And to answer your question, yes. But anyway, what was I saying? Oh right, the fire. AJ was in his rebellious stage, decided he wanted to take up smoking. He bummed some cigarettes from a friend's older brother and was smoking them out there in the yard. Mom came out and he tossed it in the garden to hide it, but it ended up catching the plants on fire. Boy did Mom ream him a new one for that. I think she was more pissed he'd killed off her tomatoes than that he was smoking. Dad was the one who boxed him 'round the ears for that.

"I had my first kiss by those rose bushes at the corner of the house," Auggie said. Annie's eyes widened and she twisted to face him better, without removing her head from his shoulder. What, she was comfortable. "Missy May. I'm not kidding either, that's really her name. Her parents had a cruel sense of humour I think. I was nine, if I remember right. She was a friend of Adam's, but she fancied me. Cornered me and kissed me right on the lips. Adam was pissed, he had such a crush on her."

Annie laughed. "So you were a ladies' man even back then?" she asked.

"Oh absolutely," Auggie said confidently. "This charm is natural born, babe, you don't just learn to be this amazing." Annie giggled into his shoulder and blamed the fluttery feeling in her stomach at hearing him call her 'babe' on the massive quantity of alcohol in her system. "Adam didn't appreciate it though. Gave me a black eye for it." She didn't miss the flash of regret that crossed his face as he spoke about his brother, the one they had just buried that morning. "It turned into a competition after that. Trying to get the attention of whatever girl the other one liked. Degenerated all the way down until Adam slept with my prom date the day after the prom, and I dislocated his shoulder. Mom beat us both around the head and gave us a feminist rant for the ages, and that put an end to it, but we never really did reconcile from it. I think we both just tried to pretend it didn't happen and moved on."

Annie didn't know what to say to him to make him feel better, so she just did the same thing she'd been doing all weekend and took his hand. Auggie immediately threaded his fingers through hers, lifting his arm to wrap it around her shoulders without breaking their grip. With a smile, Annie snuggled in close to his side and allowed herself to enjoy the warmth of his body and the scent of his cologne. She was drunk, she could get away with it without making it weird. She stared out across the lawn, taking in the sweeping waves of green beneath a canopy of glittering stars.

"You know, a girl could used to a place like this," Annie said fondly.

Auggie chuckled. "Really? Who would've thought all action Annie Walker would be into the picket fence life," he said in amusement.

Annie hummed thoughtfully. "I never had a place like this to call home," she said. "We moved around so much, living in little houses near the base and getting used to a new town every year or two. I'm kind of jealous of you, having this familiar place with all those memories. I think when I settle down, I want something like this. A place to stay forever."

"That would be nice," Auggie said, nodding against the top of her head. "I hope you find it. You deserve it."

Annie glanced up at him and then pushed herself up to kiss his cheek. "You do too," she informed him before she settled back in with her head against his shoulder. For a minute she let herself imagine what it would be like, having a steady home to raise a family in. She could hang family photos on the walls and tape finger painted pictures on the fridge door. Her kids could personalise their bedrooms, and even when they grew up and got older they would still be able to have all those memories of their childhood. In her mind's eye she saw her little curly haired kids chasing each other around the backyard playset and Auggie was laughing as he charged in and joined them.

Wait, Auggie? What was he doing there? Annie shook herself to clear the thought. Why had she imagined having a future and a family with Auggie? That was weird.

"It's kind of nice to be home," Auggie said and gave a soft sort of contented sigh. "They're a handful, but it still feels good to be back here. Thanks for coming with me."

"You're welcome," Annie said and a wave of warmth washed through her as she felt him press a light kiss to the top of her head. She snuggled back into his chest and closed her eyes, letting herself drift back to that fantasy future in her head.

That idea of having Auggie be a part of it was looking more appealing every time she pictured it.


	96. Aesopian

**Aesopian**: (adj.) Conveying meaning by hint, euphemism, innuendo, or the like.

* * *

Over the last few months Stu had learned to keep to himself whenever Annie Walker came back from a mission. It wasn't that he didn't like her, because he really did. She was pretty awesome and she was always really nice to him and the other tech guys. No, the really problem with her coming back was listening to her and his boss Auggie talking. They probably thought they were being subtle.

They weren't.

It was no secret that the two were an item. They'd made it pretty obvious when Auggie got back from his intel mission in Boston and Annie'd practically tackled him to the floor. Stu had known before that, of course. It was the tech department's job to know everything. It didn't help any that he'd been working with Auggie long enough to understand his moods, and when he came in walking on clouds with a Cheshire grin on his face Stu figured that meant he'd finally made his move and things had gone well. No one else on earth could put that grin on his face except Annie.

And then of course there was that time Greg had walked in on them in a supply closet while he was looking for paper towels. The poor guy still turned bright red every time he saw Annie. Stu found it hilarious.

No, the really uncomfortable part of their relationship was the conversations they had when Annie came home. There was the basic playful banter, usually some teasing about things that had happened on the mission, and then came the innuendos. Stu might be a good Catholic boy, but that didn't mean he didn't understand what "help me redecorate the apartment" or "teach you that new sparring move" meant. He was conservative, not naïve. And those were as vague as the statements came, unfortunately. Everything else was pretty damn obvious.

So Stu had learned that when Annie got back from a mission, the safest bet was to lock himself up in his office with his headphones on or else he'd wind up beet red for the rest of the day. When he saw Annie walk back in that afternoon he immediately made an excuse to leave, telling Auggie he'd just remembered he still needed to finish an encryption that he'd actually finished two days prior, and then shut the sliding glass door between the offices.

"Annie must be back," Greg said, glancing up from his computer screen shortly when Stu walked in. At the next computer over Jimmy rolled his eyes without pausing in his typing.

"Yeah, I'm guessing we've got about three minutes before she shows up in here," Stu responded and sank down at his desk. "Less if Joan keeps the debriefing short."

"I wonder if they know how painfully obvious they are," Greg mused aloud, looking through the door into the second office, where Auggie was sitting at his desk expectantly. "Like if they know and do it just to annoy people, or if they're really just that clueless."

"Clueless," Stu and Jimmy chimed together.

"Who's clueless?" Margaret asked as she slipped through the door, carrying a stack of manila folders. In response, all three men pointed to their boss' office. "Oh, Annie must be back. I'll bet she asks him over to 'rearrange the furniture' again, she hasn't used that one in a while."

"No way, he'll be the one to invite her over," Greg argued, laughing. "Have you seen the way he's been fidgeting the whole time she was gone? He'll make the move."

"Nah, I agree with Maggie," Jimmy said. "Annie moves first. Auggie went first last time, I swear they take turns."

"I'll take that bet," Greg challenged. Jimmy laughed and they all chipped in, placing bets on who would make the first move and which 'subtle' pick-up they would use. Once all the bets had been made, Greg walked over to the door and slid it open slightly so everyone would be able to hear the conversation going on in the next room.

"You know one of these days you'll learn not to wear heels on missions," Auggie said to Annie, who was perched on the corner of his desk. "You always wind up running and then you spend all night complaining that your feet hurt."

"They're part of my cover," Annie insisted. "No self-respecting woman wears flats with this suit. Power suits like this are just made to be worn with Louboutins or Jimmy Choos. Besides, you know you like them."

"Never said I didn't," Auggie said and shrugged. "No hot-blooded male could say no to a woman in those heels." He paused thoughtfully and Stu caught the quick, devilish smirk that crossed his face. "Speaking of which," he continued, "how would you like to come over tonight and have hot, passionate, animalistic sex on every flat surface of my apartment?"

"I'll bring the handcuffs and chocolate sauce," Annie answered just as calmly as he'd spoken. "Think we should break out the bullwhip tonight or give it a rest?"

"What's sex without a bullwhip?" Auggie retorted.

Annie nodded. "Good choice. I'll be there at seven. Be dressed and ready when I get there. I don't want to be kept waiting this time."

"Yes ma'am," Auggie said and saluted. With that Annie hopped down of the desk, gave him a quick kiss, and then marched out of the room. In the second office, all four junior tech agents were exchanging horrified looks.

"Did they really just-?" Jimmy trailed off, shaking his head. Greg was still standing at the table next to the door, frozen in the act of untangling a set of headphones and looking absolutely traumatised.

"He's coming," Margaret hissed suddenly. All of them scrambled to pretend like they were working, except Greg who seemed to be in shock and didn't move. A second later the door slid open and Auggie leaned against the frame, smirking as he looked around at all of them.

"Now children, I hope you've learned a valuable lesson today," he said, in a slow steady voice like he was speaking to kindergartners. "Eavesdropping on other people's conversations is a no-no. Also," he walked to the desk in the middle of the room and snatched up the stack of folded twenty dollar bills laying there, "gambling is a bad habit and a vice. You should get help to get over it." He tucked the money into the pocket of his jeans and then walked back to his office. At the doorway he stopped and turned back to them, grinning. "Oh and kids, next time you want to chat about my personal life, remember that I have eyes and ears everywhere. M'kay?"

With one last smug smile, he shut the door and went to his desk. For a while the techies simply sat there, processing what had just happened. And then abruptly, Stu laughed.

"Dude, they totally just played us," he said, shaking his head. It was times like this that he remembered just why Auggie was the boss around here. There really was no one as good as Auggie Anderson.

"Bastard took all our money," Jimmy grumbled, turning back to his computer and putting on his headphones, looking sullen.

Greg finally stirred, blinking around like he'd just woken up. His face was still pale. He licked his lips and then, in a weak voice, squeaked out, "Bullwhip?"

In the next room, Auggie doubled over laughing.


	97. Overslaugh

**Overslaugh**: (v.) To pass over or disregard (a person) by giving a promotion, position, etc., to another instead.

* * *

"I hope you understand the enormous inconvenience you've caused me."

Auggie snorted. Considering he had just gotten home from being poked and prodded with sewing needles all morning, he wasn't feeling horribly sympathetic. "Oh please, dearest Abigail, regale me with how I've caused you strife this time," he said sarcastically into the phone.

"Don't be a smart ass or I'll fly up there just to slap you," his younger sister threatened, making him smirk. "And don't you grin at me either, because I know you are and that's not helping your case any."

"It's scary how you can do that," Auggie informed her.

"Yeah, it's freaky when you do it too," Abigail replied. "But seriously, this whole wedding thing is going to drive me insane."

"You?" Auggie asked sceptically. "Why is it driving you mad? I'm the one being buried alive in cake designs and flower arrangements and a dozen other things that I have no clue about. Or at least Annie is, and then I have to listen to her complain about it and pretend like I care whether the flowers are red or white."

Abigail chuckled. "I should tell her to just do everything in hot pink," she said. "You'd be completely oblivious to the fact that you're standing up there in a neon pink tuxedo. God that would be hilarious."

"Don't you dare," Auggie said firmly. He lifted the beer that he'd been about to drink and rested it against his forehead instead, using the cool to lessen his headache. "Now would you tell me why my wedding is such a bother for you?"

"This whole best man thing," Abigail said. "All three of our beloved brothers are bickering and fighting about who gets to be your best man, and I'm caught in the middle of it. I'm waiting for it to come to blows. They're starting to fight dirty."

"Seriously?" Auggie asked, laughing. "They're fighting over who gets to be my best man? Why? They've done nothing but torment me my entire life and now they're concerned about being there on my big day."

"Don't ask me to make sense of it," Abigail said and he could practically hear her exasperated shrug. "But they are getting adamant. I think they figure doing this will get them in better with Mom. Everyone knows you're her favourite. Or maybe they just want to talk you out of the wedding so one of them can steal Annie away."

"I wouldn't put it passed them," Auggie admitted with a dull chuckle. His brothers were all married now - Anthony had gotten a court wedding six months ago after he'd knocked up his long-time girlfriend - but he wouldn't be surprised if they wanted to be his best man just to freak him out before his wedding. As if he needed help with that. It wasn't that he didn't want to marry Annie, that was never the question. No, he was just freaking about the actual wedding part. He wasn't a big fan of ceremony.

"So would you just pick one already before I get stuck in the middle of an all-out Anderson brawl?" Abigail moaned dramatically. "They've been pestering me for details for weeks now because they know we talk the most. I can't get them to leave me alone. Why they can't just call and bother you, I don't know."

Auggie smirked behind his beer, tilting his head to wedge the cell phone between his ear and his shoulder. "I picked two weeks ago," he said blithely.

"And you didn't tell them yet?" Abigail half-shouted. "Well tell me which one so I can get them all off my back."

"Greg."

"Oh goo- wait, who?" Abigail asked, changing tracks halfway. "Did you say Greg?"

"Yeah, Greg Hills. Originally it was going to be Stu but then something came up with his family and he had to back out," Auggie explained, fighting back a laugh at her confusion. "So I asked Greg if he'd step in and he said yes."

"Greg? You chose a friend over one of your brothers?" Abigail asked, sounding awestruck. "Seriously? Do you realise the absolute mayhem that this is going to cause?"

Auggie shrugged even though she wouldn't be able to see it. "I get along with Greg better and he's less likely to sabotage me because if he does I can just fire him," he pointed out. "Also there's the fact that he's actually here in DC where the wedding is being held, unlike all of them. And I like him."

"You are purposely trying to make my life hell, aren't you?" Abigail said and then groaned.

"They can still be groomsmen," Auggie said nonchalantly. "Oh and I'm supposed to ask you if you'd like to be one of Annie's bridesmaids. Her sister's the maid of honour, but she wants you to be a part of it too."

Abigail quite suddenly let out a piercing squeal that made Auggie jump, the phone slipping down into his lap. He waited until the noise faded away before bringing it back to his ear again. "Yes, yes, of course!" Abigail cheered excitedly. "I'd _love _to."

Auggie grinned. That was one way to get her to stop harassing him.


	98. Nervure

**Nervure**: (n.) A vein, as of a leaf or the wing of an insect.

* * *

There was nothing Auggie loved more than these peaceful little moments. The house was quiet and calm, there were no work assignments to be stressed about. It was just him and his daughter, alone in the nursery.

Auggie settled back into the rocking chair his father gave them, Alexandria resting in his folded arms. He had just woken her from her nap, and she fidgeted and cooed blearily. He nestled her more securely against his body and smiled when she curled her tiny fist in the front of his jumper.

"You're supposed to be waking up, missy, not going back to sleep," he informed her playfully. "We're trying to get you on a schedule here. I already let you sleep in an extra half hour."

Alexandria mumbled and turned her head, nudging her face into his chest. "Clearly you're not a morning person. Just like your momma," he remarked with a laugh. Still he obligingly shifted her so she'd be more comfortable. "You're such a quiet little thing, you know. I don't know how that happened because your mum and I sure aren't. If you don't grow into those vocal cords soon I'll think you're adopted."

As if to prove him wrong, Alexandria let out a loud squawk and then giggled. She'd only recently started laughing and it was easily Auggie's favourite sound in the world. "Good to know," he said. He knew it was silly to talk to his infant daughter like they were having an actual conversation but he loved doing it. He would never see his daughter or any of the various expressions she made – which Annie had informed him were many. But sounds were something he could understand and share with her. He might not know what her smile looked like, but he could tell every noise she had ever made and what they meant.

Alexandria reached up and patted his chin with her little hand. In response Auggie tapped a finger against her chin, prompting her to giggle again. "You have your mum's chin," he said, running her finger over the lean narrow point. "Which is probably for your own good, really. You've already got my ears, you poor thing."

Alexandria squirmed as his finger moved up to trace one of her ears. "Apparently your ears are ticklish like mine too," he said and laughed. He continued to run his finger over her face, following the shallow lines of her features. "That's your mum's nose there. She tells me your eyes are the same colour as mine, but they are shaped like hers. And these eyebrows, well you don't have much in the way of eyebrows yet but that's okay. We'll just hope they look like your mum's and not mine. I might be a good looking man, but I really hope you look like your mum. Course then I'll have to build defence systems around the house once you're old enough for the boys to notice. But that better be a far way off because I'm just not ready to deal with that."

His finger moved down to her lips and she bit down on his fingertip. He could just feel the two little teeth beginning to cut through her gums. He traced down her neck and her shoulders and around her arms, feeling all of the creases and curves. The softness of the skin on her little rounded belly was so smooth, like satin or a rose petal, the ghost of wrinkles like the veins in a butterfly's wing. When he brushed her side she fidgeted again and let out a squeaky little laugh.

"You really are such a beautiful little girl," Auggie told her, brushing the little curls away from her forehead. She didn't have a whole lot of hair but what she did have was already starting to curl at the tips like his did. "I hope you know that and that you never, ever forget it." In his arms she was squirming and he grinned before standing up. "Okay, you want to go wriggle around then?"

He grabbed one of the folded blankets sitting on top of the cabinet beside the bed and spread it out on the nursery room floor. Then he laid Alexandria on top of the blanket and sprawled across the floor next to her, keeping one hand resting lightly on her stomach so he'd know where she was at. She was just starting to grasp the concept of rolling over and the last thing he wanted was her rolling into anything and hurting herself.

Alexandria just laid on the floor, cooing and playing with her toes or her little stuffed lion, and Auggie smiled as he rested his head on his other arm, just listening to her.

There really was nothing more relaxing in the world than just being with his daughter.

. . . . .

"Auggie?" Annie shut the front door behind her and looked around curiously. When she'd left to go to the grocery store Auggie had been sitting on the couch reading a book. His book was still sitting on the coffee table, but he wasn't in the room. Frowning, she set the grocery sacks down on the kitchen table and then began looking for him, hoping he hadn't gotten hurt or that something hadn't happened to Alexandria.

When she pushed open the door to the nursery she froze in surprise, and then a small smile stole across her face. Auggie was lying on the floor on his stomach, one arm tucked beneath his head like a pillow. On top of the blanket next to him Alexandria was on her back with Auggie's hand on her stomach, one of her hands wrapped around his thumb and the other around his forefinger. And both of them were fast asleep.

She really should wake them up. Alexandria needed to eat soon, and she knew lying on the floor like that was going to make Auggie's back feel like hell. But really it was just so cute. So she pulled out her phone and snapped a quick picture, and then went back to the kitchen.

She'd wake them up when she was done putting away the groceries.


	99. Chaptalize

**Chaptalise****: **(v.) to increase the alcohol in a wine by adding sugar.

* * *

Annie blinked slowly, feeling slightly disoriented as the world swayed. She quickly set down the glass of wine she was drinking before she dropped it. In the seat next to her Auggie had both of his hands flat against the tabletop, his eyes narrowed in focus.

"Dani, what kind of wine did you get?" Annie asked, glancing across the table at her sister suspiciously.

Danielle and Michael looked just as disoriented as the other two. Danielle frowned at the green bottle on the table in between them. "I didn't think it was so strong," she said, her words slurring. "It was a cheap bottle. The guy at the counter said it was a very sweet wine."

Auggie chuckled dryly, tilting slightly to the side. "I can taste the sugar," he said. "Lots of it. When you add lots of sugar while fer-mer-tering it made it stronger."

"How d'you know that?" Annie asked in surprise, turning to glance at him. She immediately regretted it as the room spun around her.

"Friend in high school, his family had a vineyard," he explained. He propped an elbow on the table and leaned his forehead into his palm. "Jesus that stuff is good but I'm gonna feel like shit tomorrow."

"We all are," Annie agreed. "I'm cutting myself off now. No more tonight. I think it's time to go lay down before I fall down."

"Good plan," Auggie said and nodded, then groaned. Danielle and Michael stood up and staggered toward the stairs, murmuring good nights. Annie braced herself and stood up, gripping the edge of the table to steady herself.

"I am definitely not driving you home tonight," Annie said. Auggie made to stand up and then stumbled against the table. Annie grabbed his shoulders to stop him from falling, although all it really accomplished was making her stumble too. "Whoa, I'm thinking maybe you can't go anyway. Even if I get you a cab you won't make it to your apartment from there."

"I could too," Auggie said, sounding petulant. He took a step forward, straight into the leg of Annie's chair, and fell straight to the floor. From there he moaned and pushed himself onto his back. "M'kay, never mind."

"C'mon, you can stay here," Annie said. She grabbed his hand and hauled him to his feet. He wrapped an arm around her waist and she did the same to him. They stumbled their way to the guest house and Annie deposited Auggie on the bed. He grumbled incoherently and felt around for a pillow. Neither of them gave it any thought as they kicked off their shoes and stripped out of their jackets before settling into the bed. Annie drew the blankets up over the top of them and they laid back into the pillows.

"Your bed is soft," Auggie mumbled. "Mine's softer. You should come sleep in my bed sometime."

Annie gave a hum of agreement, the pull of the alcohol already starting to drag her under. She turned onto her side, squinting through the darkness at her best friend's profile. He was smiling lazily, the light from the porch glinting off his teeth and throwing the sharp curves of his face into high contrast. Distractedly she decided he was a very handsome man.

"We have to work tomorrow," Auggie suddenly said and he frowned. "I don't like that idea."

"Me neither," Annie agreed. Auggie rolled onto his side and their foreheads tapped against each other. It was a light contact, but enough of a jolt to make them both wince and cling to the sheets against the wave of vertigo. "Maybe we should just stay here."

"Hmm, that'd be nice," Auggie said. His hand found hers on the bed and he curled his fingers, drawing her hand closer to his chest. He nuzzled his forehead against hers again and his skin was warm against hers, his curls tickling her skin. She could feel his hot breath on her face, the smell of the wine heavy in the air between them. It felt incredibly comfortable. "Night Annie."

Annie tilted her head forward and kissed his cheek, although it actually landed at the corner of his mouth. She giggled lazily and leaned her head back into the pillow again. Besides, it's not like either of them would remember it in the morning. "Night Auggie."


	100. Amaranthine

**Amaranthine**: (adj.) Unfading; everlasting.

* * *

Annie knew what day it was. Which is why she wasn't surprised when she got to work and Auggie wasn't there. She'd glanced up at Joan, and when the older woman simply nodded she understood. So as soon as work had ended she'd made a quick stop to pick up a few things and then headed straight for the apartment building. It did catch her off guard a little that the front door was unlocked when she reached it, but she slid it open and stepped in, calling out a soft, "Auggie?"

"I'm here," Auggie answered, lifting a hand so she'd be able to see him over the back of the couch. He didn't sound surprised at all by her arrival. She glanced at the unlocked door and wondered if maybe he'd even been expecting her.

Auggie was sprawled out across the sofa, his eyes closed and a little square piece of paper in his hand. The stereo in the corner of the room was playing one of his recorded jazz soundtracks, and there were four empty bottles of beer on the floor beside the couch. He tilted his head lazily, following the sound of her approaching footsteps, and when she set down the bag she was carrying his eyebrows lifted. "You brought treats?" he asked with an amused smirk.

"Just in case," she responded. "Although it looks like you've started the party without me." She nudged his shoulder with her knee and he propped himself up on his elbows just enough for her to sit down, and then he laid his head on her lap. The whole while he never stopped fingering the scrap of paper.

"How did I know you'd find me?" he asked dryly, but he didn't seem bothered by her presence.

"Because you're my best friend and it's my job," Annie answered, smiling. She watched him rub his thumb across the faded photograph in his lap. "How are you holding up?"

"It's three years today," Auggie responded distractedly. "Three years, and I still remember it like it was yesterday." He started spinning the photograph between his fingers, flipping it over and over again. "All their faces, the heat, the sun, the fear, the explosion." The picture slipped from his hand and floated to the floor. He grabbed for it but missed by a long shot. Annie bent over to pick it up from the floor and she cast a quick glance at the image; five shirtless guys in Army fatigue pants, laughing and hanging over each other. She pressed it back into Auggie's expectant palm and he gave her a grateful nod.

"I've forgotten so many other things," he said slowly and there was a distant look on his face, like he was seeing something far beyond the room. "Colours and shapes. I know the sky and water are blue, but I don't really remember what blue looks like. But every single detail of this photograph is still crystal clear in my mind. All of their smiles, that goofy face Jason's making, Bill's cross pendant." He sighed out heavily and ran a finger around the worn edges of the picture, which had gone soft with time. "All of my other memories are fading. But this one, this one stays sharp."

Annie smiled sadly and reached down to brush a loose curl off his forehead. "You know, my dad always told me that you never see so clearly as when you look with your heart," she told him. "The really important things, the ones that stay in your heart, those are the ones you never forget."

Auggie nodded thoughtfully. "Wise man."

"Kind of like someone else I know," Annie said affectionately and his lips quirked up on one side in a smug smirk. "Now c'mon, what do you say we remember your boys in style?"

"Okay, I'm intrigued," Auggie said. "What's your plan? This have anything to do with the bag of goodies you brought with you?"

"Tequila and limes," she answered. "We can give them the sort of send off they deserve."

Auggie sat up and grinned. "I like the way you think, Miss Walker."

They settled themselves in comfortably on the couch, tipping back shots of tequila followed by slices of lime. Each shot was toasted to one of his fallen brothers and with each glass Auggie became more open about them. He told her stories of their time in Iraq, of memories of football games and shared stories about their lives back home and battles fought and won together. She had heard the general story about them, and of how they had died and Auggie'd gone blind. But she had never known him to be so forthcoming with the details. He told her everything, letting it rush out of him like he'd just been waiting for this opportunity all his life.

"He was always singing those terrible songs, some weird hip-hop rap music," he said and chuckled. Sometime in the last ten minutes his voice had started to slur just slightly. Annie was feeling pleasantly fuzzy herself, warm and lazy and content. "It wouldn't have been so bad if he actually had some understanding of rhythm but he didn't. And it was hilarious because he really just didn't care, he just kept singing anyway. He never was one to care what other people thought of him. He was a good kid."

He let out a tired sigh and leaned his head back on the sofa. At some point they'd slipped down to sit on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table, although Annie couldn't remember exactly when. "We out of limes yet?" he asked curiously.

"Nope, two slices left," Annie said, glancing at the cutting board on the table.

"Hmm, good, one more for each of us," he said and sat up again, his hands running over the table in search of the tequila bottle.

Annie chuckled and grabbed his hand to stop him. "I got it here," she said, picking it up from where she'd set it on the floor next to her. She poured a shot for each of them and set the glass on the table in front of him. "'Kay, gimme your hand," she instructed, grabbing the salt shaker.

"My hand tastes funny though," he whined, wrinkling his nose.

"It does not, you weirdo," Annie argued, laughing.

"Does too," Auggie said. "Try it."

Annie rolled her eyes but took his outstretched hand and licked the back of it. She could taste the remnants of salt and tequila there from when he'd done the same earlier, but other than that she couldn't detect any other strange flavours. "It tastes fine," she told him pointedly. She shook salt onto the patch of damp skin and then licked it off before tipping back her shot of tequila. It seared its way down her throat and she popped the lime wedge into her mouth, sucking on it.

"That tickled," Auggie informed her with a laugh, rubbing the back of his hand.

"But it tasted fine," she responded when she's spit out the lime rind and tossed it into the paper sack on the table. "So gimme if you want salt to go with your shot."

Auggie smirked and shook his head. "Nope, you licked my hand so I lick yours," he informed her. "That's how it works. It's fair that way."

"You planned this," Annie said shrewdly. "You did it on purpose." Auggie just continued to grin at her, not agreeing or denying it. She rolled her eyes one more time for her own benefit before placing her hand in his. He drew it up to his mouth and licked the patch of skin on the inside of her wrist slowly. It was so distracting that Annie forgot she was supposed to put salt on it until he said, "Annie?"

"Oh, right," she said and shook the salt onto her wet skin. Auggie sucked the salt off her wrist and then downed his shot without ever letting go of her hand. Annie was too busy pushing away the strange rush of warmth that had formed in the pit of her stomach. Watching Auggie's tongue glide across the sensitive skin of her wrist had made images form in her mind that she was positive she'd never imagined before. Clearly she had had _way _too much to drink.

"Mm, you taste nice," Auggie said lazily, dropping the lime wedge into the paper bag. "Like vanilla and cinnamon, kinda."

"You're uncoridgable," she told him and then frowned. Somehow that word didn't sound quite right to her. Auggie didn't say anything about it so she shrugged it off. A yawn escaped her and she leaned her head back on the sofa, her eyes drifting halfway shut. "I think I need to sleep."

"Me too," Auggie said and nodded slowly. He pushed himself up to his feet, holding his arms out to his sides when he staggered slightly. He stood there for a minute until he seemed to gain his bearings, and then offered a hand down to her. "C'mon, bed time."

"It's okay, your couch is nice," Annie said but Auggie didn't let go of her hand when he turned around and started walking for the bedroom.

"Bed's nicer," he said simply. When they were in the room he gestured toward the dresser and said, "There's some old tee-shirts in there if you wanna." He staggered to the bed and sat down, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it on the floor. Annie stared for a minute and the only thing the little voice in the back of her head could managed was a strangled, _Hot damn_. She shook her head and went to the dresser, pulling out drawers curiously. Underwear, socks, sweats. Ah, there's the shirts. She picked one at random and changed into it, not bothering with modesty. It's not like he'd see anything if she was dancing around naked in front of him.

Once she was wearing just his tee-shirt, a black one with a classic Nintendo controller on it, and her underwear, she headed back to the bed where Auggie was already laying under the duvet. When she lifted the blankets to climb in next to him she saw he was wearing nothing but a pair of silky blue boxers. Those bizarre warm feelings swirling in her stomach started up again double-time. No, so not appropriate.

"Don't get handsy," Annie said as she slid in and fluffed the pillow under her head, making herself comfortable.

"I'll try," Auggie said noncommittally. Annie turned her head and looked at him in the semi-dark, remembering a time long months ago when they'd been in the same position; wasted and in bed together. Only they'd been at her house instead of his. He must have been thinking the same thing because abruptly he said, "Told you my bed was softer than yours."

"It is," Annie agreed, snuggling down into the comfortable mattress. It sank around her like a cloud, or maybe a marshmallow. The idea of sleeping on a bed of marshmallows made her giggle. Auggie joined in even though he had no idea why she was laughing.

They eventually settled into a contented quiet, both of them only half-conscious. Auggie twisted his head to the side so he was facing her direction, and Annie was momentarily captivated by the way the moonlight from outside the window glinted off his dark eyes. "Hey Annie?" he said and his tone was softer than it had been since they'd started drinking, more genuine.

"Yeah?" she prompted curiously.

"Thanks for coming over," he said with a small smile. "I'm glad I didn't have to be alone."

Annie smiled warmly and scooted closer to him on the bed, nuzzling her head into his shoulder. Under normal circumstances she probably would've considered that crossing over the friend boundary, but the evening had been anything but ordinary. So she just settled herself in against his side, resting her cheek on his shoulder and taking his hand in both of hers. "You never have to be alone," she told him firmly. "That's what best friends are for."

Auggie's smile widened and he shifted his arm, sliding it under her neck and bringing her more securely into his side. Annie drew flush against him, burying her face in the warm skin of his collarbone. He placed a quick kiss on her forehead. "Night Annie."

"Nuh-night," Annie answered blearily, already half asleep in the comfort of his arms.


	101. Willowwacks

**Willowwacks**: (n.) A wooded, uninhabited area.

* * *

Auggie walked slowly around the room, using his cane to figure out the layout of the place. He could hear Annie in the next room through the open door, humming to herself as she stashed away their suitcases. The place smelled sweet and earthy, wood and pine and moisture heavy in the air. Even though there was a cacophony of noise outside the windows - birds chirping, breeze ruffling the leaves, the sound of the river as it splashed into the lake - it all felt incredibly tranquil.

"You know, I never would've imagined this for our honeymoon," Auggie said, curiously tracing his hand over the stone mantle of an aged fireplace set into the wall.

The rustling noises from the next room stopped. "What do you mean?" Annie asked and there was a bit of trepidation in her voice. "Would you rather have gone somewhere else?"

"Not at all, this is nice," Auggie said quickly. "I just thought you would. You're such an adventurer, a real traveller. I always figured we'd be touring Europe or backpacking through the Amazon or something wild like that."

"First of all, hell no we're not going to the Amazon," Annie said and laughed. "I am not going to die on my honeymoon by being eaten by a carnivorous plant. And I can go to Europe any old time, that's nothing new or exciting. No, I really prefer the idea of just you and I, alone up here in the mountains all by ourselves. No interruptions, no matters of national security, no cell phone service."

"No cell service?" Auggie asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly. "What kind of vacation is this?"

Her bare feet were light on the wood floor so he barely heard her coming before she'd pressed her lips against his in a searing kiss. Auggie responded instinctively, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her flush to him to return the kiss. By the time she pulled away his shirt had come untucked and her hair had been freed from its ponytail and sufficiently rumpled.

"The kind of vacation where we can do whatever the hell we want," Annie answered in a low voice, that pleasant edge to it that made chills erupt all over his skin. "And you know what I want to do right now? I think I want to go check out the lake."

"Check out the lake?" Auggie asked, not even bothering to hide his disappointment. His plans had involved far less of the outdoor scenery and a lot more to do with the giant down mattress in the bedroom of their rented cabin.

"Mmhmm, the lake," Annie said. He heard her soft footsteps heading away from him and then she paused. A second later something hit his chest and he caught it in surprise. Running it through his hands, he realised it was a pair of denim shorts, still warm from being worn for most of the morning. His eyes widened in surprise. "So," Annie asked from near the back door, her voice sultry and playful, "care to join me?"

"Hell yeah," Auggie said eagerly, already tugging his shirt up over his head as he started in her direction. Annie gave a quick warning shout at the same time that his shin caught a small coffee table he'd forgotten about, sending him tumbling to the floor. He rolled onto his back and Annie ran over to kneel next to him.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" she asked, and her fingers tickled over him as she checked him for injury.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just clipped my leg," Auggie said, his neck burning bright red. "I, uh, got distracted and forgot about that table."

"Sorry," Annie said.

Auggie chuckled. "I've got a mental image of you jumping into a lake buck naked. Don't apologise."

Annie laughed in reply as her fingers brushed across his shin, and he bit the inside of his cheek when she prodded at the tender spot. "Well you didn't break skin, just a little bit of a bruise probably," she told him. A current of goosebumps broke out as she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his shin. "There, kissed it better."

"You know, I think I might have bumped my head too," Auggie said abruptly, pointing to his forehead. "When I fell. Kiss that better?" She giggled but obligingly kissed his forehead. "And here, on my cheek." She kissed there. "And I bit my lip too, when I hit the floor. Kiss it?"

"You're incorrigible," Annie informed him in amusement before pressing her lips to his again. Auggie immediately grabbed her and rolled them over, so he was hovering over her and keeping her firmly trapped between his body and the floor.

"And yet you married me anyway," he responded with a roguish grin. He felt her nudge his hand with hers, brushing over the simple band that now rested on his third finger.

"That's because I love you," Annie said sincerely.

Auggie's heart swelled in his chest, a feeling that only she seemed to be able to evoke from him. He bent his head to capture her lips, this kiss still as firm but full of love and sweetness instead of fire. "And I love you too, Annie Anderson," he whispered, loving the way the name rolled over his tongue. "Forever."

Her hands snaked around his neck and dragged him down to her in a hungry, passionate kiss. She made his head spin, and it didn't take long before he was completely powerless to fight her. Not that he had any intention of it, of course. She hooked a leg around his hip and flipped them again, her body pressing him down into the floor. When her hands went to the zipper of his jeans he raised an eyebrow. "What happened to the lake?"

"The lake can wait."

Auggie didn't need any more encouragement than that.


	102. Billet

**Billet**: (v.) To provide or obtain lodging.

* * *

The knock on his door made Auggie lift his head in surprise. Who was at his door at eleven o'clock on a Thursday night? It couldn't be work-related, he hadn't been allowed into the office all week after the disaster of the Russian bomb shelter. Joan had ordered a strict bed rest for him so after he'd left the hospital he'd hardly left his apartment. He laid aside his book and stood up awkwardly, keeping his weight shifted off of his bandaged ankle as much as he could. As he was limping to the door, the knocking sounded again, softer this time, like the person was suddenly hesitant.

"Who is it?" he called through the metal, one hand on the handle.

"Auggie, it's me," was the reply. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he heaved, allowing a puff of grapefruit scented air into the room.

"Annie, what's up?" he asked. "I mean, not that I'm not happy to have you here. Just kind of wondering why."

"I'm sorry," she said and her voice was more timid than usual, setting warning bells off in his head immediately. "I just - I didn't have anywhere else to go." And that's when he heard the smallest of noises that really turned his head; a muffled sob.

"Annie, what's the matter?" he asked immediately. He reached out and found her shoulder, tugging her into the apartment and shutting the door behind her. "What happened?"

She took a deep shuddering breath before answering. "Dani and I got in a fight," she admitted quietly.

Auggie closed his eyes and grimaced. This couldn't be good. He knew how close the sisters were, and if the fight had been bad enough to leave her crying on his doorstep than he could only begin to imagine. He put an arm around her shoulders - distractedly noticing that they were bare - and led her to the couch. Once they'd settled down he asked, "What happened?"

"It's Thursday night," she started. "So it was that dinner party. When you found out you weren't going to make it this week she called in one of Michael's friends to be my date instead. So I got pissed. I mean, I had a right to be, didn't I? So we started in on that. She yelled at me about you not being there, because she assumed I must have done something to ruin our relationship, even though we don't _have _one, at least not like she thinks. And then I forgot how low the back of this dress goes, and she saw my stitches. So she laid into me about that. About how I must be doing something terribly stupid to keep getting hurt like this. Everything just blew up."

She was trembling, her shoulders shaking underneath his hand. "About her meddling in my life, about how she knows I'm keeping secrets from her. We both said a lot of really horrible things. And then I just couldn't take it anymore. I left. And I can't go back, not now. I can't face her because if I do then everything will just be ruined."

"Hey now," Auggie said gently. He pulled his arm tighter and she curled into his hug, burying her face in his collar and clinging to him. He stroked her hair and let her cry, just humming quiet reassurances to her until the sobs faded. "Everything will be okay. You'll be okay. You'll see." She drew back, sniffling, and he could hear her rubbing the tears from her cheeks. "You can stay here until everything blows over, okay? Give it a day or two and you and Danielle will have everything worked out. But until then, you can stay with me."

"Really?" Annie asked hopefully.

"Of course," Auggie said with a small laugh. "Why do you sound so surprised? That's what best friends are for."

"Thank you so much, Auggie," she said and he felt her lightly brush her lips against his cheek. "You're the greatest."

"Again, with the surprise," he teased and she finally laughed. "Let me grab you some more comfortable clothes. And then I think a glass of wine and a movie is in order." After she'd changed into a pair of his sweats and a tee-shirt, they settled down on the couch and watched an old action movie. It was hardly halfway over before Annie had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder. He smiled and laid her out on the couch, tucking a pillow under her head and then draping a throw blanket over her. He would've let her have the bed but he was afraid of carrying her up there and bashing her head against a doorframe. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done it to someone. It was hard to be spatially aware with your arms full of woman. Not to mention his bruised ribs were still a bit too tender.

Once he was changed and in bed he laid back and thought about what had happened. Every operative had to deal with this fight. You could only fool your family for so long, especially when you lived so close like Annie and her family. Injuries and missed holidays could only be left unexplained for so long. Eventually people started asking questions that couldn't be answered. It came to either reading your family in or leaving. Worst case situation, both happened. He knew that choice was coming soon for Annie, and he vowed to be there for her no matter which option she chose.

There was the sound of soft bare footsteps on his hardwood floor and he felt his lips quirk. He didn't say anything as Annie crossed the room and then carefully slid into the bed on the other side. Keeping his eyes closed, he pretended to be asleep as she settled in as quietly as she could. She knew him too well to be fooled. "I don't want to be alone," she whispered into the dark.

Auggie slid his hand over until he found hers and weaved their fingers together. "You won't be." He paused for a beat and then added, "But once this is all over you owe me pizza and a Bourne movie marathon."

Annie rolled onto her side, tucking her head against his shoulder. "It's a deal."


	103. Mundify

**Mundify**: (v.) To purge or purify.

* * *

"How did you guys manage to get chocolate frosting on my _ceiling_?" Danielle asked incredulously.

"Annie did it," Auggie said immediately. Annie rolled her eyes and promptly smacked him across the back of the head. "What? You can't blame it on me. I can't see to aim."

"You are not using that to get out of trouble," Annie hissed. "Need I remind you that the whole water bucket thing was _your _doing?"

Danielle held up her hands to interrupt them and cut in with, "I don't even want to know. Just – would you guys clean this mess up? Some of Michael's new co-workers are coming for dinner tonight and I don't want them seeing this."

"Don't worry about it, Dani, we'll take care of it," Auggie said, flashing her that charismatic smile that he used to charm every woman that crossed his path. Annie rolled her eyes again when Danielle returned his smile and then left them alone in the kitchen.

"The way you charm your way out of everything is really obnoxious," Annie informed him, shaking her head. "I mean she ranted at me for ten minutes, and then you just smile at her and she forgets all about it."

Auggie didn't even bother trying to hide his smirk. "It's a gift," he answered simply. "Alright boss, so where do we start?"

"You get to clean the counter," Annie said. Looking around the room, she figured that it would probably be the easiest part for him to clean. She went to the sink and got a damp cleaning rag, and then pressed it into his hand. "Get to scrubbing, soldier boy."

"Aye aye, captain," Auggie responded with a mocking salute. He reached out and found the counter, and then began rubbing the washcloth over it. Annie watched him for a moment, grinning at the way he ran first the washcloth over the countertop and then his fingers just behind it, checking for anything he missed. Then she grabbed the second washcloth and started rubbing at the spots of chocolate that had been splattered on the cupboards and appliances.

"You know I didn't realise quite how much of a mess we made last night," Annie said as she rubbed frosting off the fridge door.

"Besides the chocolate that's still in my hair you mean?" Auggie asked, arching an eyebrow. "Because I can smell that." He paused and then added, "It's kind of making me hungry."

"Men are always hungry," Annie said and laughed. "Are you staying for Dani's big dinner tonight?"

"Well I should probably go home and shower to get the rest of this cake off of me, but you know I never turn down Dani's cooking," he answered.

"Good because I really don't want to face a whole night of Dani trying to set me up with the guys from Michael's work," Annie said. "She doesn't do it as much when you're here." She glanced up at the ceiling and sighed. There was no putting it off any longer. "Okay, I've got to get that chocolate off the ceiling now. Would you help me up onto the counter?"

"You don't want me to do it?" Auggie asked.

"No, because if you fall off there's no way I could catch you," Annie said simply. Auggie smirked but nodded. He held onto her arms as she climbed up onto the kitchen island and then stood up. Once she was standing he placed his hands at her knees, prepared to steady her in case she slipped on the damp granite.

"It really is ridiculous we got cake up here," Annie grumbled as she scrubbed away at the chocolate. "I honestly don't know how it happened."

"Don't ask me, I didn't see anything," Auggie said, shrugging innocently. Annie bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at his playful quip. Her foot skidded slightly as she stepped onto a damp spot and Auggie's hands clamped down around her legs just below her knees. Even though she hadn't actually stumbled, the feeling made her nearly fall off the island. His hands were cool and damp against her bare knees, his fingertips hovering just at the bottom edges of her yoga shorts. His thumbs rested against the backs of her knees, and his coarse fingertips sent chills through her sensitive skin.

"You okay?" Auggie asked anxiously, not letting her go.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Annie said, feeling far more distracted than she ought to in the situation. She shook her head to clear it and then reached down and touch his hand lightly, prompting him to loosen his grip.

"Told you I should've done it," Auggie said. "I'm much more graceful than you are."

Annie snorted but didn't bother with an answer as she wiped away the last of the dessert from the ceiling. Once she was satisfied that the last of the chocolate was gone she tossed the dishrag into the sink and then turned back to Auggie. "Help me down?" she asked.

"No, I figured I'd help you up and then just leave you there," he replied sarcastically.

"Smart ass," Annie murmured under her breath. He heard her anyway because his smile crooked up further on one side. She stepped carefully to the edge of the counter and leaned down, resting her hands on his shoulders. He surprised her by closing his own hands around her waist, lifting her clean off the counter and lowering her carefully to the floor. It was a slow and controlled movement that wound up with her body sliding down his in a decidedly un-friend type way. Even though she'd felt his body before, between numerous hugs and sparring sessions, there was something far more poignant in having her body slip down the front of his so closely.

"You steady enough for me to let go now?" Auggie asked jokingly.

_No, not at all actually_. "Yes, smart ass," she said aloud, smacking him in the chest to prove her point. He laughed and took a step back, lifting his arms to defend himself in case she attacked again. "Okay, now that the kitchen is cleaned I think we should probably start getting ready for Dani's dinner. I could definitely use a shower and a fresh change of clothes. And so can you, mister."

"Harsh," Auggie said, placing a hand over his heart and pretending to be wounded. "Alright, I can take a hint." He called a car service and they waited on the front porch until it pulled up in the drive. "I'll be back in a little while. Try not to cause any more disastrous messes without me, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Annie responded. She watched Auggie walk down to the car and was embarrassed when she realised her gaze had slid down to the way his jeans hung on his hips. Shaking herself again, she stood up and half-jogged for the guest house. As much as her body needed the shower, she was pretty sure her mind was what really needed a thorough scrubbing.


	104. Purloin

**Purloin**: (v.) To take dishonestly; steal.

* * *

Desperate times called for desperate measures. That's what Auggie told himself as he wound his way to Annie's desk on Friday afternoon. For the last two weeks he had been trying to coerce her into coming with him on an almost-date, and so far she had shot him down at every chance. Of course that was probably because he made it sound like a joke every time he asked her. His nerves couldn't handle the thought of genuinely asking her out. The possibilities of what it might do to their friendship if she said no were not outcomes he was eager to consider.

So after two weeks of teasing questions and propositions, the day of the dinner had actually come and he still had not gotten her to agree. He needed her to come with him, in a situation that was kind of but not really a date. He needed to introduce her to the idea that perhaps they should go on a real date without coming on too strong. That they should progress their relationship to the next level. Which meant he had to get her to the restaurant with him. And that meant it was time to resort to the sort of covert trickery that they specialised in at the CIA.

Knowing that she was in Joan's office, no doubt being briefed on the latest details of their most recent mission that was set to go at any time, he walked over to Annie's desk. She always kept her purse in the same drawer of the desk, and he pried it open carefully. He tried to look casual as he reached in and rooted through her bag until he found her mobile, and then slipped it into his pocket. Shutting the drawer and tucking the chair back under the desk, he went back to his own office as if nothing had happened.

Auggie tucked her cell phone deep into the bottom of his satchel after turning it on silent. If she realised it was gone before he left he didn't want her to call and hear it ringing from his office. That would be difficult to explain. Thankfully she was kept up in Joan's office until just about the time he was leaving for the night, so he didn't get the chance to say anything more to her than a quick goodbye on his way out to the car service. At home he dressed in a rush and stowed her phone in the pocket of his jacket before taking another car down to the restaurant where he was meeting his brothers.

"What happened to your date?" Anthony asked the moment the friendly host had led him to the right table.

"Hi Tony, nice to see you too," Auggie said dryly. "I'm great, how are you?"

"Someone's diverting," Andy said and chuckled. Then he gave a small oomph as his wife, Colleen, assumedly elbowed him and then hissed, "Andy, be nice, would you?"

Auggie rolled his eyes and sank into an open chair. "She's running late," he answered. "She's going to meet us here as soon as she can get away." Even though he couldn't see them, he could practically feel the sceptical glances his brothers were exchanging over the tabletop.

The conversation at the table was loud, all of the brothers trying to talk over the other as they shared stories about what was going on in their lives. Andy bragged about his promotion, AJ gloated about his kids, Anthony joked about the new girl he was sleeping with back home. All the while Auggie kept mostly to himself. He didn't have any stories to share with them, because his work was classified and his personal life, well, he was waiting for his personal life to realise her phone was missing.

"God Auggie, do you ever get out and do anything?" Andy asked in amusement, rolling his eyes. "Or do you just live in that museum basement glued to your computer?"

An irritable retort was on the end of his tongue when the phone in his jacket suddenly chirped loudly. His heart leapt in his chest, because that wasn't his phone, which was in the pocket of his jeans. No, that was _her _phone. Putting on his best confused expression, because the ruse needed to fool his brothers as well as Annie, he pulled it out and answered with a bemused, "Hello?"

"Auggie?" Annie asked through the phone, clearly surprised.

"Annie?" he replied. She let out a grateful _oh thank God_ that made him grin. Clearly she had expected a much worse fate for her lost phone. "How did your phone wind up in my jacket?"

"I don't know, but can I come by and get it back from you before Joan tries to call me for work?"

"No problem, darling," he said, tacking on the endearment for his brothers' benefit. "The Formaggio on Twelfth and Le Grand."

"On my way."

Auggie grinned as she promptly hung up and then tucked the phone back into his pocket. "She forgot where we were meeting," he said in explanation to the unasked question hanging over the table, giving an exasperated laugh. "She's on her way."

"Annie?" AJ asked curiously. "That's the girl you brought home with you, isn't it? The pretty blonde one?"

"She's blonde?" Auggie asked in mock surprise. There was a hesitant silence and Auggie fought back a groan. His brothers never really had adjusted to the fact that he was blind, and when he joked about it the way he did with his friends it always led to these uncomfortable moments when they weren't sure whether to take him seriously or laugh. "I'm kidding guys, I know she's blonde. And yes, that's who I meant. I'll be right back, I'm going to go let the host know she's coming."

He took his time walking up to the front podium, partly out of safety concerns because he didn't want to trip over anything, and when he told the host that he was expecting his date any minute now the man agreed to show her back when she arrived. Auggie thanked him and then headed back to the table, where his brothers were already engaged in another hearty debate. The fact that the conversation died down not long after he got into earshot was a pretty good indicator as to what they were discussing.

Auggie pretended not to notice as he sank back into his seat, munching on a breadstick so he wouldn't be expected to join in on the talk, which was now on sports. It was a tense fifteen minutes for him as he waited for Annie's arrival. Would she be angry with him for tricking her? Was this all the horrible decision of a terribly desperate man? How many jibes could Andy fit into one sentence? Was she going to show up before he murdered his brother? Would she realise what he'd done and call him out on it, humiliating him? Oh God, what had he been thinking?

The familiar click of heels on the stone floor made Auggie's lips instinctively curve. God he loved that sound. Glancing in that direction he cut across his brothers with a loud, "There she is. Hello Annie, nice of you to join us."

There was an awkward pause that felt several times longer than it actually was, and then Annie said, "Hi honey, sorry I'm so late." She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before dropping into the chair next to him, and Auggie couldn't fight the grin that split his face.

Yeah, stealing her phone had so been worth it.


	105. Aplomb

**Aplomb**: (n.) Assurance of manner or of action; self-possession; confidence; coolness.

* * *

If Annie had to pick one skill that Auggie possessed that she was envious of, it would be his ability to always remain perfectly composed. No matter what situation they were in, he could act as if there was nothing different going on. She imagined it was part of what had made him such a spectacular field agent, but mostly it annoyed her because it made her look like a complete moron in comparison.

Like he was doing to her right now.

In retrospect, she figured that she should've expected something like this to happen. Jumping her boyfriend in a CIA supply closet was not exactly the smartest thing that she'd done in her life. But she'd been out of the country for almost three weeks, and three weeks of listening to that damn sexy voice over the phone and not being able to be with him had been maddening. Then of course she came back and he made some stupid lecherous comment in that smooth baritone and winked those deep chocolate eyes, and she couldn't take in any more.

They had been walking down the hallway just outside the DPD and she had abruptly shoved him into a nearby supply closet. Before he could even ask what the hell she was doing, she was kissing him. To his benefit he took it all in stride and he pressed her up against the shelves, reciprocating the kiss eagerly.

Annie forgot entirely that they were in a cleaning closet, in their workplace. In the frickin' CIA headquarters. All she could focus on was his lips and his hands roaming over her skin and the planes of his stomach and back as she pushed her hands beneath his shirt. She blanked out the fact that they were currently wildly groping each other while they were supposed to be working.

Which is why the door of the closet opening was such a slap in the face.

Annie turned to look in horror at the person standing frozen in the frame of the door. Greg, one of Auggie's junior tech boys, stared right back at her, his eyes wide. As she glanced down at their position she realised why. Both her and Auggie's shirts had been unbuttoned and shoved open. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, and her skirt had been shoved up nearly to her hips to accommodate their position.

_Shit_. That was the only thing that was going through Annie's mind as she looked at Greg with a deer-in-the-headlights look.

Auggie cleared his throat. "You need something?" he asked calmly.

"Paper towels," Greg squeaked. Auggie nodded to her and Annie reached over her head, grabbing a roll of towels from the shelf. Greg took them hesitantly, murmured a "thanks," and then bolted away.

"Where were we?" Auggie asked, turning back to Annie.

"Auggie, we just got caught!" Annie said frantically. Oh God, what was Joan going to say when she found out they'd been hooking up like horny teenagers in the janitor's closet? She was so going to be on desk duty for the rest of her life.

Auggie smirked and started kissing up the side of her neck. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't help but tilt her head to give him better access. "Which means that no one else will be dumb enough to interrupt us," he whispered against her skin. That deep, gravelly tone his voice had taken on sent shivers up her back. "Might as well at least do what we're going to get busted for, right?"

Damn that stupid techie with those stupid brown eyes and that stupid sexy smile and that stupid perpetual voice of calm. He was going to be the death of her, but hell if she wasn't going to enjoy it all the same.


	106. Inculcate

**Inculcate**: (v.) To teach and impress by frequent repetition or instruction.

* * *

"Can you say it, Lexi? Say it."

Annie looked up from her book to watch Auggie, who was sitting on the floor in the living room. He was talking to their daughter, Alexandria, while she crawled around in front of him and giggled. "Auggie, you've been trying to get her to say it all week," Annie pointed out with a laugh. "Do you really think it'll magically work if you just ask her again?"

"C'mon Lexi, you know you want to," Auggie said, ignoring her. He reached down to tickle her and Lexi shrieked with laughter. "Just try it. Daddy. Can you say that?"

"Guh!" Lexi said and clapped her hands excitedly. Annie let out an amused snort.

"No, not guh," Auggie continued unconcernedly. "Daddy. Daddy. That's me, I'm Daddy. And that lady over there, that's your momma, but you can call her Doubting Donna."

Annie humphed and grabbed the nearest throw pillow, hurling it at the back of his head. He laughed when it hit him. "I'm just saying," Annie said defensively, "She's just barely starting to even make sounds that sound like actual words. Do you really think just saying Daddy over and over will make her learn it faster?"

"Can't hurt to try," Auggie said with a nonchalant shrug. "C'mon Lex, say Daddy. Daddy. Dah-dee."

"Gah!" Lexi yelled and then giggled.

"No, Daddy," Auggie insisted. From the other room the phone rang and the caller id chirped out, "Greg Hills," in a robotic voice. "I'll get it," Auggie said. "It's for me." He stood up and headed for the kitchen.

"Da!"

Annie looked up in shock and Auggie froze in the kitchen doorframe. He turned around slowly. "Did she really-?" he asked in awe.

"Da!" Lexi whined and started crawling toward him.

A delirious grin broke out across Auggie's face, and he stooped down to gather her up. When she was securely nestled on his hip he kissed her forehead lightly. "That's right, princess," he said cheerfully. "I'm Dad." Then he turned in Annie's direction and added, "And that's your mom, who is going to spend the rest of her life jealous that I was your first word. Now c'mon, Lexi, let's go find out what Uncle Greg wants and we can tell him the good news."

Annie watched in awe as they walked into the kitchen, Lexi letting out one last shriek of "Da!"

Maybe she'd have to start trying that repetition trick too. She couldn't have her little girl becoming a complete daddy's girl.


	107. Elegiac

**Elegiac**: (adj.) Relating to the mourning or remembering of the dead.

* * *

"So you say this is some sort of tradition for you?"

Annie glanced sideways at Auggie, who was standing next to her at the side of the lake. They were both bare foot, their pant legs rolled up to avoid the shallow water they were standing in. She fingered the smooth rock in her palm thoughtfully.

"It's June twelfth," Annie responded, not looking up from the dark stone. "When I was five, my dad took me out to a lake near the base and he taught me how to skip rocks. We talked a lot that day, about everything. What I wanted to do when I grew up, stories from when he was a kid, things that were happening at school. It sort of became a tradition for us, to go out every year in June and skip rocks and talk. It was our special time for just the two of us. We did it every year until I graduated and left the country. While I was gone, he died."

"On June twelfth?" Auggie guessed.

Annie nodded. She knew Auggie wouldn't see the motion, but he had a good way of just knowing. "So every year on June twelfth I go out to a lake, no matter where I'm at, and I skip rocks," she explained. "For him." She drew her arm back and flicked the rock out toward the water, where it skipped four times across the surface before it disappeared.

"That's neat," Auggie said simply. He threw the stone in his hand toward the water and it sank with a dull _thwip_.

Annie giggled. "It's nice to know you're not good at everything," she said in amusement.

"Hey, I'm just glad I actually got it in the water," Auggie pointed out. "Score one for Blindy." He scooped another rock from the ground, ran his fingers over it, and then flicked it toward the centre of the lake. It skipped once and then dipped under a small wave that had crested on the surface of the water. "That one actually skipped," he said, pointing toward the water proudly. "See, I'm not so terrible at this." Annie threw a rock of her own and it skipped five times before sinking. "Show off," Auggie grumbled.

"It's easier if you get down closer to the water," Annie informed him. "You're more likely to strike it level. And you've got to get a rock that's smoother." She scanned the beach until she spotted one and then pressed it into his hand. "Go ahead and give it a try."

"I'm supposed to get down close to the water?" Auggie asked sceptically. Annie pushed down on his shoulders until he crouched down above the water, Annie crouched just behind him. "I'll have you know my ass is now all wet," he said, shifting his legs awkwardly as he tried to keep himself above the surface as best as he could. Annie smirked when she saw the seat of his jeans was now a shade darker.

"Quit being such a baby," Annie said teasingly. He stuck his tongue at her. "Alright, now throw it with your wrist instead of your whole arm. It's more of a flicking movement, like with a Frisbee."

"Right, because Frisbees are something that blind guys play with all the time," Auggie said sarcastically. Annie was sorely tempted to shove him into the water. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, he drew his arm back and then threw. The stone skid three times and a grin broke out over Auggie's face. "I did it."

"Good job," Annie said, squeezing his arm encouragingly.

"Told you I'm good at everything," Auggie said smugly. He twisted to face her but lost his footing, and Annie caught one glance of his surprised expression before he tumbled into her. They both fell into the lake with a splash. Auggie scrambled off her and Annie sat up, coughing out the water she'd inhaled in her surprise. "Oh God, Annie, you okay?" Auggie asked, his hands finding her shoulders as he knelt down next to her.

"I'm fine," Annie said. There was a spot in her back that was a little sore from landing on a rock, but it wasn't anything too dangerous. "Just really wet now."

Auggie chuckled. "Yeah, guess my wet ass is the least of my worries now," he agreed. Annie smiled and reached up to brush the dripping curls back from his forehead. "C'mon, let's get you out of the water." He stood up and when she took his hands he pulled her to her feet. They hiked up the beach and then settled down on a patch of grass, lounging. Auggie laid back with his arms folded behind his head, and Annie sat propped on her elbows as she stared out across the water.

"Thanks for coming with me," Annie said after a minute of silence. "I know it's kind of a depressing way to spend your Saturday."

"It's a lot more productive than the way Andersons do things," Auggie pointed out. She vividly remembered going along to Auggie's brother's funeral, where they'd mourned the loss by getting completely trashed. "Besides, I learned to skip rocks. You never know when that skill might come in handy in our line of work."

Annie smiled and bumped him with her shoulder. "Still, thanks," she repeated. "You're the greatest best friend a girl could ask for."

"I know," Auggie replied unashamedly. He lifted himself up on his elbows and cocked an eyebrow at her in a way that told Annie he was about to make a comment that would make her regret her moment of sincerity. And inevitably... "Now what do you say we get you out of those wet clothes?"


	108. Dilatory

**Dilatory**: (adj.) Tending to put off what ought to be done at once; given to procrastination.

* * *

"Annie, call her," Auggie repeated firmly.

"I don't want to," Annie said again, folding her arms over her chest. She felt like a petulant child, sulking on Auggie's couch, but she couldn't do it. She wasn't ready yet.

"It's not going to get any better if you keep putting it off," Auggie said pointedly. Annie humphed and sank down further into the sofa. "Annie, it's been three days. You've got to at least try and make things right with her."

"What if she's still mad at me?" Annie asked anxiously. "What if she doesn't want to forgive me? Or she won't forgive me until I tell her everything? Should I read her in? What if I tell her and she freaks out? What if she kicks me out? And she never wants to talk to me again? What am I supposed to do then, Auggie?"

Auggie reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders. "First thing, you should probably breathe," he said and the smallest of smiles quirked up the corners of his lips. "Hyperventilating isn't going to make the situation magically fix itself." He stared at her - well, at her left ear - until she took a deep breath and then let it out. "Better. Now let's take this one step at a time. We're not going to have an answer to any of those questions until you call her and talk things out."

"I'll do it tomorrow," Annie said, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to keep looking at that calm, rational face in front of her.

"That's what you said yesterday," Auggie pointed out with a laugh. He grabbed her mobile off the coffee table and handed it out to her. "Just call her, Annie. It's better to just get it done and over with so you know for sure. And no matter what happens, I'll be here to help you through it, okay?"

Annie hesitated for another minute and then she took the phone from his open palm. Auggie smiled and the hand that was still on her shoulder squeezed affectionately. "That's my girl," he said playfully. "I'll be in the bedroom, so you can have a little privacy, okay? Just come get me if you need me."

"Thanks," Annie said and she leaned forward to kiss his cheek lightly. Auggie nodded and then stood up and went into the bedroom. Annie waited until she could no longer see him before opening her phone. Her thumb hovered over the speed dial for a full minute. She needed to do it. She couldn't keep sleeping on Auggie's couch while she hid from her sister and the inevitable confrontation. It was time to buck up and get it over with.

Annie took a deep breath and then pressed the button.


	109. Bacchanalia

**Bacchanalia**: (n.) A riotous, boisterous, or drunken festivity; a revel.

* * *

If Annie had had any idea of just what she was getting into, she might have agreed that they should spend their first Christmas since getting married alone in their DC apartment. She should've known that Christmas with the Andersons - even if it was just the adults - would be an event of absolute madness. After all, they were insane on the calmest of days. On a holiday it was nothing short of chaos.

Annie was jostled aside as two of Auggie's cousins, whose names she couldn't remember for the life of her, ran passed them, yelling and whooping. Auggie caught her as she staggered into him. "You alright?" he asked, smirking.

"Fine," Annie said, reluctantly straightening back up although she kept close to him. The large house where they were holding the Christmas party was not quite large enough for the massive amount of Andersons inside of it. Annie had learned early on that having a ridiculous number of kids was not exactly an unusual thing in the Anderson clan; both his mother and father had at least four siblings a piece, who had all gone on to have at least four kids themselves. To put it mildly, it was a bit of a culture shock for the second daughter of two only children.

"I warned you these things were dangerous," Auggie reminded her. A loudly laughing uncle brushed passed and Auggie wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her protectively toward him. Once the older man had passed Auggie whispered, "And that was Uncle Carlisle, who has compulsively wandering hands. Be careful around him."

"Wandering hands?" Annie asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, he's been known to grab things he shouldn't," Auggie said and chuckled. "But he's senile so we can't really get mad at him for it. His brain hasn't been quite right since he came back from Korea. Still, definitely lends to a lot of entertaining family stories. You should ask AJ about what happened at Thanksgiving the year before I went off to college."

"I can imagine," Annie said and shook her head, watching the uncle who was currently engaged in an animated conversation with two older women.

There was a high-pitched squeak from behind Annie and she jumped in surprise, turning around to find Auggie's younger sister Abigail standing there and grinning. Before she could ask what had the girl so worked up, Abigail pointed upward and said, "Look who's under the mistletoe!"

"Who?" Auggie asked in confusion.

"That would be us," Annie answered, looking up at the cluster of white berries hanging from the rafter beam above their heads.

"Kiss her!" Abigail cheered excitedly and the call was picked up by dozens of others until it seemed like everyone in the room was chanting it. "Kiss her, kiss her!"

"I can't kiss her," Auggie protested. "We're married. Married people don't do that."

"Quit being funny and just kiss her already," his older brother Anthony said. "Or else I'll come do it instead."

"You'll kiss me?" Auggie asked, looking horrified. Annie rolled her eyes and seized him around the neck, kissing him before he could make another smart-assed remark. For a moment Auggie seemed surprised, but he recovered quickly, grabbing her by the waist and sweeping her into a dramatic dip. His relatives crowed and cheered as he brought her upright again and she fell against his chest, laughing.

"Alright, after that now I need some fresh air," Auggie said and Annie took his arm, leading him through the noisy crowd to the back door. They slipped out onto the back porch and Annie huddled close to his side to stave off some of the cold Illinois air. The Christmas lights strung along the eaves sent glittering rainbows over the snow and the trees along the edge of the property were coated in frost. As Auggie let out a heavy sigh his breath misted in the air in front of him. "Regret coming yet?"

"No," Annie replied simply, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Although I saw the kiss your brother Andy laid on his girlfriend and I think I might have married the wrong Anderson."

Auggie snorted derisively. "With as much as he's had to drink already, I'm surprised he actually hit the target and didn't wind up kissing the wrong person," he said. Annie giggled into his sweater. "It's been a while since I've come to one of these, I sort of forgot how insane they got."

"It's nice though," Annie said. "Having such a large family and all of those people that know you and care about you. I don't even really have any cousins, just me and Dani, and some second cousins I've only ever talked to a few times." She looked out across the spacious yard and the enormous house and said, "I think I'd like a big family."

"You want lots of little Anderson kids to chase around?" Auggie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well I don't know if I could handle as many as your mum," Annie said and laughed. "But a few would be nice. More than two."

Auggie hummed thoughtfully. "Alright, so a number between two and seven," he mused. "That sounds fair enough. When should we start? Now? Because there are plenty of rooms in this house and I'm pretty sure no one would noticed if we disappeared for a while."

Annie laughed and shook her head, while still snuggling closer to his side as a cool breeze ruffled her skirt. "Nice try, but I haven't had near enough to drink to be seduced into a guest bedroom just yet," she said.

"Then why don't we go get more drinks," Auggie said. "Besides, I can feel you shivering. And if I'm not mistaken, that sounds like a dozen cats being murdered, which means they've started singing carols inside. Can't miss that, it's an Anderson tradition."

Annie smiled as they slipped back into the house and she caught the synchronised shouting from the den that vaguely resembled music. Auggie poured them both glasses of champagne and then they rejoined his family. Everyone was crowded into the room where Auggie's mother played the piano and Abigail was sitting on top of it as she conducted with wide, dramatic sweeps of her arms. Auggie squeezed her hand comfortingly and Annie let out a contented sigh.

Yeah, she could definitely get used to having a big family.


	110. Postprandial

**Postprandial**: (adj.) Happening or done after a meal.

* * *

Auggie sank down into the sofa and then tilted his head toward his wife, a lazy grin on his face. "Have I ever mentioned before how much I love the after lunch nap?" he asked idly.

"A time or two," Annie responded and he could hear her smile. He stretched out across the couch and Annie settled herself in next to him, nuzzling her face into his chest. "It is nice to have a little time during the day to unwind."

"Yeah," Auggie said. He muffled a yawn with his shoulder and then continued, "It'll be a real shame when Lex is too old for midday naps anymore. We might actually have to stay awake all day long for a change."

Annie dragged the throw blanket down off the back of the couch and spread it over the top of them before curling back into his side. "Well that won't be for a few years now, she's barely two," she pointed out. "And by then we'll have more kids so we'll always have someone around here napping."

"We will?" Auggie asked in surprise, arching an eyebrow at her even though her head was tucked under his chin so she wouldn't see it. "You think?" They had only just started talking about having another kid, and considering how many months it had taken for Lexi to come along, he figured they still had a while.

"I, uh, I don't think," Annie said and at this she lifted her head so he could feel her gaze on the side of his face. "I know."

"You know?" Auggie paused, and then what she was saying sank in and his eyebrows shot upward in shock. "Are you-?"

"Yeah," Annie said. "I mean, I'm not completely positive yet, I still need to go to the doctor and have it confirmed, but yeah, I'm pretty sure."

Auggie's face split with an enthusiastic grin and he drew her into a tight hug, pressing kisses against the crown of her head. "We're having another baby," he declared excitedly. "This is fantastic. A baby." He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her soundly, unable to keep the smile off his face.

"So you're happy then?" Annie asked sarcastically when they finally broke apart.

"I'm ecstatic," Auggie corrected. "We're having a baby!"

"You do realise this means we'll never get another moment of rest again, with two kids in the house," Annie said. "Lexi is already enough of a handful, but with another little one..."

Auggie shrugged unconcernedly and drew her in tighter to his chest. "We can handle it," he said simply. "I hope this one's a boy."

"I hope so too," Annie said. "If we have another little girl, my poor husband won't have any spine left. You do tend to turn into jelly around little girls."

"Har har," Auggie said dryly. Not that he could deny it, because he knew it was true. He wasn't particularly good at telling Lexi no, and she had had him wrapped around her little finger since the day she was born. "I just think it'll be fun to listen to you trying to corral a true little Anderson boy. It'll make that thing in Portugal seem like a breeze."

Annie snorted. "I can put up with you, I can handle anything," she answered. He felt her smirking as she nestled her face into the curve of his neck. Auggie let his cheek rest against the top of her head, feeling the long morning of playing tag in the yard catching up with him.

His hand slid to Annie's waist and he splayed his fingers over her stomach. He couldn't tell much of a difference yet, it was still too soon for that, but they had a little baby in there somewhere. In a couple of months he'd be able to feel it kicking, and hear its heartbeat. And then they would have another baby in the house. It would be an adventure, another mission as trying as the ones he'd faced in the field but ten times as rewarding. He couldn't wait.

But for now, it was time for a good after lunch nap.


End file.
